


L.A. 1983

by stormtrprinstilettos



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-03-29 21:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19028167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormtrprinstilettos/pseuds/stormtrprinstilettos
Summary: It’s 1983 and Queen are recording their next album at the studio where you work, and things get a little heated between you and the drummer. (Can be read as one shots or as one story - your pick!)





	1. “Move those hips like I know you can.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot, but… I’m gonna keep it going.

You were stuck in an endless cycle of monotony. The same morning routine, the same route to work that seemed almost robotic (you didn’t even have to check the bus numbers anymore), same methodical system at your job, same route back home, and the same routine after getting back to your apartment. Change your clothes and laze around until bedtime. You had fallen into a monotonous routine on the weekends, too, since meeting a guy a couple of months ago. You’d wait for Alan to call, usually around 7:00 on Friday night, about an hour after you got home from work, and you’d meet him at the same bar, order the same drinks, stay for exactly two hours and fifteen minutes, then head back to your place. The only times things would change would be if you decided to have sex, and that was even monotonous. 

This morning, though, was going to be the start of something different, or so you told yourself. Jack, one of the sound engineers at the studio where you worked as a glorified secretary, as you called yourself, agreed to let you sit in on a recording session today. Of course, he agreed before, but the artists who were recording on those days always seemed leery of letting you sit in. You weren’t sure why – it’s not like you were going to touch anything – but it always ended up happening where you’d be told “maybe next time.” The most you were ever allowed in was when you were delivering food or drinks or whatever other stupid things these prima donnas wanted.

Today, if this band said they didn’t want you there, you were going to put up an argument. Okay, so you were going to beg and promise not to do anything stupid.At least you were going to try not to do anything stupid. Jack was a little nervous about inviting you in – this was your favorite band, and he saw how nervous you’d get around people you weren’t even fans of, so he didn’t even want to imagine any possible catastrophe that could have happened if you became a bumbling idiot. “Come on, Jack,” you pleaded as you were literally on your knees begging. “I’ll probably be too scared to even say anything, let alone move. I’ll sit in the corner. I promise.”

Of course, as your luck would have it, the four members of your favorite band (and their manager) walked in as you were on your knees, begging and pleading and making promises you knew you never had any intention of fulfilling. In fact, the first time they saw you was when you were standing up from behind your desk as he was chuckling. Not exactly the first impression you wanted to give. 

“Do you mind if she sits in with us today?” Jack asked them as you were standing up. “She won’t break anything.” You were too mortified to turn around, and they were too shocked to say anything. You wanted to cry and run away, but that would have made you look even worse. Jack started to howl with laughter. “This is not what it looks like.” You heard five men behind you all start to laugh, and you slowly turn around. “She was just being dramatic.” 

“It may be nice to have new ears,” Freddie says with a chuckle. “What’s your name, darling?”

You were trying desperately not to bumble, instead forcing yourself to exude confidence and smile. “I’m Y/N,” you say as you hold out a hand to shake. “I, uh…” You want to die, right there in front of everyone, as your nerves start to take over. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Freddie says with a smile. “These are the others,” he waves his hand in their direction. “And I’m sure they won’t mind having you sit in with us either.” He turns to them. “Right?” They all smile and let you know that they don’t mind as they start to file in. 

You quickly turn to Jack after they are out of your line of vision and slap him on the shoulder. “What the fuck, Jack? You could have told me they were walking in!” You’re still feeling absolutely mortified and want to cry. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

“No, I don’t, but it was funny as hell,” he says though his hard laughter. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

Your nerves started to subside after that first day when all you did was sit there in a daze. Sure, they just oozed rock star vibes, naturally, but once your brain fully comprehended the fact that you were indeed not dreaming and that you were really sitting in listening to and watching Queen make their music, you felt much calmer. And they did everything they could to make you feel at ease. John was the one who would make you giggle constantly with bad jokes. Brian was somewhat reserved, soft spoken, but he did chat you up with interesting conversation after finding out you were learning how to play guitar. Freddie made you feel like your presence was appreciated, always calling you in to ask your opinion on things, which he and the others did take into consideration. Then there was Roger, who was exactly how you imagined him to be when you’d fantasize about meeting them – a funny, eternal flirt. Not that you minded one bit. You were used to men flirting with you, and this was _Roger_ _fucking_ _Taylor_ , the epitome of your teenage rockstar fantasy – like you were going to have a problem with him flirting with you. Much to your surprise, you had no problem dishing it back to him. 

“Don’t you have better things you want to be doing right now?” he asks you that first Friday night they were recording. “I’m sure a pretty thing like you has someone else to be spending a Friday night with besides us two blokes,” he chuffed as he pointed behind the glass to John.

You shrug. “I’m quite enjoying myself right now,” you smile. “I find all of this interesting.” Your smile faded into a smirk. “Company’s good, too.”

“Yeah,” he smirks back. “I’ve no complaints.” The two of you were snapped out of your mutual flirting session by John, who was beckoning Roger for some help.

Jack wheels his chair back to where you are sitting and raises an eyebrow, and you raise one back. “You know his reputation,” he mumbles quietly. You roll your eyes, smirk and say nothing. He starts to laugh loudly. “I forgot who I’m talking to. You chew them up and spit them out with the best of them.”

“Jesus Christ, Jack,” you say a bit too loudly as you’re laughing too, catching the attention of Roger and John, who you didn’t realize were within listening range. “Why keep them around if they start to get boring?”

“We’re going to call it a day,” John said as he walked over to where you were, interrupting your conversation. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.” He and Roger walked out after saying their goodbyes, leaving you and Jack to straighten everything out before locking up.

Jack left first, leaving you behind to turn out the lights. When you walked out and locked the door, you heard a voice coming from behind you. “So what does Miss Y/N do around here on a Friday night?” It was Roger, and he startled you a little bit, giving the both of you quite a laugh.

“Usually? I just go down to the bar and have a few drinks. I’m not very adventurous,” you giggle.

“Ah, keep it simple,” he chuffed. “Care for some company?”

 _Really_? you think to yourself. _He_ _wants_ _to_ _hang_ _out_ _with_ _me_? After getting over the initial shock, you nod your head. “Sure,” you smile. “But I must warn you – I’m quite boring.”

“Nah,” he chuckles and holds out his arm for you to lock yours into. “We’ll have fun I’m sure.”

When you walk into your usual hangout, it seems like all eyes turn to you. You don’t think anything of it – it’s full of all the same regulars as every other night. You exchange pleasantries with a few of them and lead Roger to the back corner after stopping at the bar to get drinks.

“Tell me about yourself,” he says. “Other than work, what do you get up to?”

You roll your eyes, unamused. “This,” you say as you wave your hands around. “Work and this pretty much consumes my time.” You raise your brow. “Told you. I’m quite boring.”

He started to laugh. “You live in Los Angeles. There’s a lot you can get into over here.”

“I hate it here,” you mumble. “I’m only here for this stupid job, and it doesn’t seem like I’m ever going to get where I want to be.” His face turns concerned. “I’m sorry. There’s no need to start my whining,” you chuckle, but he gives you a look that tells you he wants to hear what you have to say. “I took the assistant job at the studio with the understanding that I was going to be shown the actual workings. So far, that hasn’t happened.”

“You seem to be learning things?”

“All I’m doing is watching,” you shrug. “But at least I get to do that.”

“I’ll make sure you get to do more than just watch.” There was a different tone in his voice when he told you that. It went beyond flirtation, and you didn’t know if he was even talking about the studio anymore. You were staring into each other’s eyes and smirking, forgetting that other people were around. He inches his hand closer to yours on top of the table, making sure he grazed just close enough to barely touch you. _What_ _the_ _fuck_ _is_ _happening_ _right_ _now_? you screamed internally, hoping your face didn’t let on that you were giddy as hell. 

Just then, there’s a tap on your shoulder. You turn and see Alan. “I was calling you, but I guess you didn’t answer because you’re already here.” Your head falls into your hands. “Who is this?” he asks as he points to Roger. 

You bite your top lip in annoyance and look up to him. “This is Roger and we’re…”

“… on a date,” Roger finishes, smiling at you. 

“A date?” Alan yells. “So you’re cheating on me with this old guy?” 

“Cheating?” You say with a hearty laugh. Roger leans back and crosses his arms, clearly amused but not saying a word. 

Alan is upset. “But… we…”

“We fuck when I want to fuck, Alan. That’s all we do.” You’re looking up at him with sheer annoyance, hoping he walks away while he still has a small amount of dignity left. 

“But you told me…” he starts to whine, annoying you even more. 

“Oh, come on. I never made you any promises,” you pop back, rolling your eyes.

“You said you enjoy my company, and we…”

“We fuck. That’s it. I’ll say anything as long as the dick is big enough.” You wave him away. 

Alan stomps away, feeling humiliated and Roger roars with laughter. “That was brutal, Y/N. Where has this person been hiding? Who knew you had it in you to be vicious?” He leaned over the table and looked at you curiously. “This is probably rude, but how old are you anyway?”

“That’s quite rude,” you chuckle, “and I’m 21.” 

People start to recognize him and begin to stare and whisper. “Everyone’s looking at you,” he jokes. 

“They’re not looking at me. They see me all the time. Probably wondering what I’m doing here with an old guy,” you giggle. People start to approach him at the table. He takes it in stride at first, but you can tell he’s starting to get a little bit annoyed. “Want to get out of here?” you ask with a whisper. 

He nods his head and you get up from the table and head outside. “So where else does Miss Y/N go on a Friday night?” he asks as you start to walk down the street. 

“Told you. The bar and home. That’s my fun filled evenings,” you shrugged. 

“Let’s go, then.” He smirks as you look up at him. “Seriously. Let’s go. Show me boring. I haven’t had boring since ‘68.”

“Would you like something to drink? Eat?” you ask after walking in your apartment.

“No, thanks.” He walks over to your stereo and starts glancing over your music collection, quite impressed by the organization of it all. “Alphabetical order. Nice,” he chuckles, rubbing his finger starting at letter A and stopping when he gets to the Q. “Ah, I see you’re a fan of those idiots from England,” he laughs. “They’re alright.”

The whole moment is completely surreal to you. This whole week had been, but right now – right this second – was more surreal than anything else that had happened. Roger Taylor, in your living room, looking at your music collection – in your living room. He comes and sits down right next to you on the sofa. “Do you want the TV on?” you ask, quietly as he inches himself as close to you as possible. He smiles and shakes his head no, as he brings a hand up to your hair. You take a deep breath, trying hard to mask your nerves, but you’re not doing a very good job. You just know he can hear your heart beating in your chest.

“Am I making you nervous?” he chuckles. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” He takes his hand away from your hair and moves it down your arm, taking hold of your hand. You start to giggle. “This is 16-year-old me’s fantasy right now.” You start to feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down, unable to control your nervous giggle.

“Well,” he starts with a soft tone in his voice. “21-year-old you gets to live it out.” He lifts your chin, making your eyes meet with his, as he smiles gently. “If she wants to, of course, help 35-year-old me live out his.” He can see the somewhat baffled look come across your face. “What?” he laughs. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed my relentless attempts to be as close to you as I could possibly get.”

“Me?” you ask, laughing. “I’m your fantasy?”

“I’ve been thinking about all the things I want to do to you since I saw you on Monday, Y/N,” he says with a raspy, throaty tone as he smirks mischievously.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, biting your bottom lip, completely forgetting your nerves. “Like what?”

“Should start with a kiss, yeah?” he says as he leans in to you, taking your lips in his, giving you the most tingling sensation you’ve ever felt from anyone before. His lips are soft and soothing, and feel like velvet against yours. You move a hand to the back of his neck, gently rubbing your fingernails against the bottom of his hair, as he moves a hand behind your head, gently rubbing on your scalp. You don’t break the kiss as you move to straddle his lap, making it easier for you to kiss him. You pull back gently to look at him, making sure this is actually happening. He smiles and puts his hands on your hips as you lean back in for more kissing. “I saw you dancing through the window yesterday,” he sneered with a smile. “Move those hips like I know you can.” He starts to nudge your hips back and forth as you smirk at him, and you get the hint to keep moving as he runs his hands up your back, lifting your shirt up in the process. You pull out of the kiss again so he can take your shirt off, staring deep into each other’s eyes, letting each other know exactly how far you want this to go.

You hold his face in your hands as your hips continue to rock and you kiss him deeply, harder than before, as his hands move back onto your hips. “I know you want more than this,” you breathlessly whisper before climbing off him and kneeling down in front of him. “Unless…” your voice trails away as you start to unbutton his pants. “Unless this isn’t part of your fantasy.” You smirk as you continue undoing his pants.

“Oh no,” he chuffs. “You’re doing just fine.” He lets out a tiny gasp as your hand slides into his pants and touches his cock, pulling it out, as he tilts his hips up and starts to pull down his pants with your help. You hold his length in your hand, rubbing up and down, watching it grow with every stroke, a drop of precum releasing from the tip.

“You don’t mind, do you?” you jokingly ask with a grin before placing your tongue on top and slowly licking it away, taking great pleasure in knowing that your tongue caused him to buck his hips closer to you.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps as your warm mouth wraps around him. You hold on to his hips to steady yourself as you move back and forth along his member as he gently holds a grasp on your hair. “You’re good at this,” he chuckles, causing you to giggle with your mouth full. “Mmm, stop,” he commands you as you lift your head up and make a subtle pop when you take his cock out of your mouth. “Don’t want to waste this,” he chuffed as he leans up to meet you, kissing you before growling in your ear.

You fake a pout. “But I was just getting started,” you say with a fake whine before you start giggling.

“Your turn, baby girl,” he whispers, guiding you to stand up in front of him as he grabs the waist of your pants. “We don’t need these anymore, do we?” He raises an eyebrow and smirks as he starts to pull them down, admiring every single inch of you standing before him. He runs a hand up your thigh and over to your mound, lightly grazing your folds, lightly touching your clit with the tip of his thumb. “Already wet for me, hmm?” he mumbles as you bite your lip and smirk at him. “Good girl.” He reaches behind you and pulls you closer to him, softly kissing your belly button as one hand wanders back to your flower, being ever so gentle as he rubs around, exploring with great concentration. “Not here,” he whispers as he looks up into your gazing eyes. “Show me your bedroom.” He holds you as he pushes you back so he can stand up, kissing you when his mouth reaches yours.

When you walked into your room, you turned to him as you unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the ground on its on fruition. His gaze instantly focused on your breasts before looking back up into your eyes and a breath stuck in his throat. “You, Y/N. You’re fucking beautiful.” He smiles and slowly walks towards you, a slight smirk across his mouth, taking off his shirt, and taking note of the proximity of the bed from where you’re standing.

He grabs your shoulders and pushes you down on the bed, catching you by surprise. “All you had to do was ask,” you say with a laugh. You lean up on your elbows, scoot up further into the bed and look at him, still trying to wrap it around your brain that this was actually happening.

As he crawls closer to you, his smirk grows bigger. “I want to taste you now,” he growls as he parts your legs and starts to kiss your inner thighs. He moves closer, and you can feel his breath at your core, before he parts the lips and continuing his earlier exploration, this time using his tongue. He was clearly experienced, as he took no time before directing his attention to your clit, making sure he spent the perfect amount of time both circling with the tip of his tongue and softly caressing it with his tongue flattened.

You moan and arch your back. “Oh fuck, Roger,” you groan as you grab hold of his hair.

“Mmm,” he chuckles. “Like that, do you?” You can’t answer. Every sound you want to make is locked in your throat. “You taste so fucking good,” he groaned before he started to suck gently on your lips before sucking gently on your clit. He moved the fingers he was using to hold your lips apart down to your entrance, and you let out a loud groan as your thighs began to twitch as he inserted one finger. “That’s right,” he whispered. “Good girl.”

You look down to him and see his eyes looking up at you, and you can feel his smile against you as he continues to work his tongue on your pussy. “Fuck,” you moan with a giggle as your head falls back onto the bed. “You’re good.” You raise yourself up so you can watch him again.

He moved his head back, smile still across his face, and he inserted another finger inside of you. “Cum for me,” he groaned, curling his fingers deep inside of you as he lowers his mouth back down onto your essence.

“Oh, fuck!” you scream out, becoming a complete puddle of ecstasy. He holds his free hand on your stomach, making sure you can’t move away, still thrusting his fingers in and out, never moving his mouth from your clit, riding out your orgasm with you.

When you finally came down from your high, he got up on his knees, his pleased smile not leaving his face as he looked down at your exhausted body while his fingers kept pumping inside of you. “Mmm,” he chuckles as he leans down for a kiss. “Hope you’re not too tired,” he said with a raspy whisper. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“You better not be,” you say, breathless, as you bite your bottom lip. “16-year-old me fantasized about more than that,” you giggle.

“Good,” he grumbles as he kisses your neck, his fingers still moving inside of you. “Because 35-year-old me fantasized about doing more.” He quickly pulled his fingers out and started to rub his cock against your wetness. He knelt up between your legs, raising them and resting your calves on his shoulders before slowly entering you, teasing you first with the head before pushing the shaft all the way in, both of you taking a deep breath at the same time, never taking your eyes off of each other. “So fucking tight,” he grunted as he slowly thrusted his cock in and out.

Your hands run up and down his back, your nails digging in to his skin. He clearly likes that, because every time you grab him with your nails, he starts to thrust faster and faster. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, grunting and trying to control himself as much as he can. “You feel so good inside me,” you loudly whisper in his ear, nibbling at the lobe before pulling back with your teeth still clinched. His thrust gets slower, trying to pace himself to make it last longer. He looks up at you, his face flushed with heat and sweat, and he pulls himself out of you, going back up to his knees. You scoot up and sit, never taking your eyes off of his. “Take me from behind,” you say as you get on your knees as well.

He leans in to you, holding you close, molding your bodies together, and gives you a deep, passionate kiss. “No,” he tells you. “I want to see your face when you cum for me again.” He lays on his back, and you climb on top, slowly lowering yourself onto his shaft. He raises his hands and grabs your breasts, twisting your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. “Move those hips like I know you can,” he says with a smile. You start to rock back and forth, grinning wickedly as you bite your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he coos, pinching your nipples even harder, eliciting a small whine from your mouth.

You lean back and hold yourself up with your hands on both sides of his legs as you keep rocking and rolling your hips in a circular motion. “You like that?” you ask as you look down to him, watching his face as he smiles and nods his head as best he can. You grab one of his hands and move it down to your mound, and he takes the hint and starts to softly massage your clit with his thumb. “Mmm, yeah. Like that,” you whisper.

“You’re such a naughty little minx,” he growls as he watches you pleasuring yourself with his dick. He can feel your walls start to clinch and he knows you’re getting close to orgasm. “Cum for me,” he tells you. “Cum all over my cock.”

You sit up, moving your hands up to your breasts. “Make me,” you purr seductively. He grabs your back and pulls you down toward him, kissing you heavily, your tongues wrapping together as you moan in unison. He starts to buck his hips and thrashes into you, forcing himself inside of you as deep as he can go. “Fuck, Roger,” you groan. “Fucking pound me,” you instruct him.

“Dirty girl,” he hisses in your ear. “Such a dirty girl with that tight pussy.” His speed quickens and you know he won’t last much longer. His breathing is getting harder, louder, and he’s about to lose all control. Your walls tighten as he grabs you harder, the sound of you slapping against each other and your mornings fill the room as you push hard against each other. His panting and moaning gets louder, and you scream out his name as your body starts to shake before your muscles contract around him as he cums hard inside of you, filling you with his warm seed, meeting your orgasm at the same time.

You sit up, not moving him out of you and push your hair out of your face, looking down on him with a smile as you let out a giggle. “Yeah, that was much better than what I imagined it would be,” you joke, making him laugh.

He reached up and grabbed your waist, rolling you onto your back as he moved to hover over you before giving you quick pecking kisses on your neck and collarbone as you giggled. “Told you we’d have fun,” he smirked. He laid down on his back next to you and smiled. “Strawberries,” he mumbled as he turned his head to look at you. “You smell like strawberries.” You started to laugh. “I happen to love strawberries.”

Early next afternoon you went into work, happier than usual. It was a Saturday, and you normally wouldn’t be there, but they were planning on recording again, so you wanted to make sure everything was in order when they arrived in an hour. Jack came in a few minutes before they did. “Had a nice night?” he asked, and you started to get flustered, suspicious that he knew what you got into and with whom. “What? You’re radiating. Alan must have done a good job, that’s all,” he said with a laugh. You said nothing, opting to give him a smirk instead. When you looked up, you saw Roger and John walk in, followed by Brian and Freddie. You and Roger immediately locked eyes and shared the same subtle smirk. Jack noticed. “Oh, fuck, Y/N, you didn’t.” He started to laugh and slapped his forehead.

“Shut up, Jack,” you giggled as they walked into the recording room.

Everyone said hello, and Roger walked over to you and leaned in your ear. “I’m still not done with you,” he whispered and winked.

“Good,” you whisper back. “Because I’m not done with you either.”

He smirked as he murmurs in your ear again. “You’ll say anything as long as the dick is big enough.”

“Yeah,” you wryly reply. “I guess it’s a good thing you know what you’re doing then.”

Brian walks over and clears his throat. “You ready to get started, Rog? Or do you need a moment?” He grins at the two of you, completely aware of what went on last night.

“Go home,” Roger quietly tells you. “You’ll need to rest up for later.” You start to say something, but he stops you. “There’s a present on your desk,” he grins and walks away to join everyone else.

When you get to your desk, there’s a box wrapped in pink paper and a lime green bow. You look at it curiously with a quiet laugh before opening it. Inside there’s a t-shirt with a cartoon strawberry on the front. You look up through the window and see Roger watching you with a smile. He winks at you before turning his attention to his work. You shake your head, giggling, gather up your things and head home. _He’s_ _the_ _one_ _who_ _needs_ _to_ _make_ _sure_ _he’s_ _rested_ _up_ , you giggle to yourself, already getting flushed imagining what you’ll be getting up to tonight.


	2. Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Just pretend like what happens here has been discussed before by Roger & Reader and that it’s completely consensual!)

It was already a long, exhausting day and it wasn’t even noon. You had to leave home at 5am to pick a friend up at the airport. After bringing them home you had to run to the bank. You didn’t get to work until after 10 and you were going to have to leave around 3:00 to get to a doctor’s appointment. You probably should have just taken the day off, but if you would have, you’d not have gotten your daily Roger fix. The two of you got together alone a few times since that night a couple of weeks ago, not counting that time two days ago when he stayed behind at the studio when everyone else went to get lunch (he decided he wanted to have you instead). Of course you’d have liked it every night, as would he, but you understood that it couldn’t happen like that, so the two of you settled for at least being able to flirt with each other as often as possible.

Roger notices you gathering your things and ran out to catch you before you leave. “Where do you think you’re going?” he yelled as he flings the door open, surprising you, making you jump and scream.

“Stop doing that!” you yell, both of you laughing. He finds it amusing how jumpy you get when he sneaks up on you, so he never lets the chance to startle you pass him by. “I have a doctor’s appointment.”

His face turned concerned. “Are you okay?” He walks over and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” you giggle. “It’s just a check up with the lady doctor.” His face falls, even more concerned than before. “I’m not pregnant, Roger,” you laugh. “It’s just my yearly visit and I need to renew my birth control prescription.” He exhales the breath he was holding in and starts to chuckle. “Not like I would know if you knocked me up this soon anyway,” you say seriously, but jokingly just to toy with him, after turning your back and walking away. “Guess I’ll find out in a little while, huh?” you turn around and tell him with a big toothy grin, starting to laugh again. “Scare me and I’ll scare you back.” He realizes you’re joking and flips you off, which you kindly reciprocate. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Roger.”

“Not if I see you before then,” he chortles as you walk out the door.

Before going home after the trip to the doctor’s, you stopped over at the grocery store to buy something that would be easy to make for dinner. You argued with some creep on the bus ride home who didn’t understand the concept of personal boundaries. You were tired since you had to get up so early this morning. Your boss was in a bad mood earlier and kept nitpicking at every little thing. So when you finally get inside your apartment, you’re loving the fact that you don’t have to talk to or see anyone else until tomorrow. After getting the food cooking, you run back to your room to change into comfortable clothes, throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and stop off at your stereo to get some music on before going back to the kitchen.

You set your plate of food on the table, and right as you’re sitting down to eat, there’s a knock on the door. “Dammit,” you whisper to yourself as you roll your eyes, and walk to the door. You look through the peephole and don’t see anyone, so you slowly open the door.

“Surprise!” Roger hollers as he jumps in front of the door, laughing hysterically after you scream and slap him on his arm for scaring you. “Missed you this afternoon,” he says as he leans against the doorframe and peaks out over his sunglasses. _Those_ _damn_ _sunglasses_ , you groan to yourself. “Wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You lean against the door and smile. “You’re ridiculous. It’s only been a few hours,” you tell him as you open the door and motion for him to come in. “I’m just about to eat dinner. Spaghetti. Want some?”

“You cook?” he asks with an amused tone to his voice. “Impressive.” You glare at him and stick out your tongue as you make a plate for him. He sits down at the table after grabbing a drink from the refrigerator, waiting for his food. “Van Morrison,” he nods, taking note of the music you have playing in the background. “You can cook and you listen to good music,” he jokes as you put his plate down in front of him before taking a seat. “And no one’s snatched you up yet?”

“Oh shut up,” you groan. “Maybe I don’t want to be snatched up,” you giggle as you take a bite of your food.

“Well somebody needs to,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “Because it’s a shame to cook like this and not have anyone to feed it to.”

You start laughing. “It’s jarred spaghetti sauce I got from the store and I added meat to it. I’m not a 5 star chef.”

The impromptu dinner with Roger didn’t last long. You both ate rather quickly considering all of the talking you were doing. He told you about the rest of his day at the studio, how Brian was being difficult and Freddie left not long after you did because of all the bickering. You told him about your trip to the airport at that ungodly hour but spared him the details of your visit to the doctor. After cleaning the kitchen, you joined him in the living room where he was quite relaxed on the sofa, flipping through the tv channels with his arm thrown on the back of the sofa.

“I’m so tired,” you whine, plopping down next to him on the sofa and taking it upon yourself to curl up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s been such a long day.”

“Get some rest,” he tells you as he pats you softly on top of your head. You’re expecting him to get up and leave, but he doesn’t. He stays right there, letting you relax, even moving his arm from the back of the sofa and wrapping it around your shoulder.

You fell asleep. You’re not sure when, or even for how long you had been sleeping, and you would still be sleeping had you not heard him saying your name.

“Y/N,” you hear him mumble. You can’t make out anything else he’s mumbling, thinking that’s because you’re not fully awake, so you lift your head and look at him. You start to giggle. He’s sound asleep, and as far as you can tell, he’s enjoying whatever it is he’s dreaming about. He has a soft smile on his lips, and he keeps letting out these cute, quiet groans.

When you start to sit up, you realize that your hand is resting on his waist. You look down to make sure you don’t push on him when you sit up and notice a significant bulge in his pants. Biting your lip, you look over at him again, his smile still there, and his groaning getting just a little bit louder. You scoot down, carefully to make sure you don’t disturb him, and climb over him to get off of the sofa and kneel next to him on the floor, ideas swirling around in your head. _Should_ _I_? you ask yourself. You don’t even try to convince yourself not to. Smirking devilishly, you slowly start to unbutton his pants, looking back up to Roger as you softly unzip them, hoping he doesn’t wake up. Not yet, anyway. That’s why you don’t even try to pull his pants down to give you better access.

Carefully, you open the waist of his jeans and rub against the front of his boxers, watching for any reaction on his face. His smile goes away, but he’s still groaning and whispers your name sporadically. You feel his cock growing harder and harder with every move the palm of your hand makes down the shaft. You want him to wake up now. You want him to wake up with his dick already hard and you want him to ravish the hell out of you. But he still sleeps, even as you take his arousal out of his boxers, even as you rub the drop of precum around the tip with your thumb as you gently tapped his shaft with your other four fingers. “You make me so hard,” he whispers. You look up to him and he’s still sleeping. Sure, you could easily wake him up, but this was more fun.

You climb back on the sofa, position yourself between his legs and lower your mouth to the head of his dick, licking around the head at first before taking it all in your mouth, moving up and down, hoping he would wake up soon. “Fuck,” you hear him moan, making you take him out of your mouth and gaze up at him. _How_ _the_ _hell_ _is_ _he_ _still_ _sleeping_? you wonder, lowering your mouth back down and working harder to get him to wake up. He starts breathing heavier and moaning louder and his hips start to move. You know from previous experience that he’s close – real close – and you wish he would wake the hell up so he would know that this wasn’t all a dream. “Naughty girl,” you hear him groan as he grabs the hair on top of your hair and tugs it so you’ll look at him. He’s not sleeping anymore. You smirk at him as you slowly lift your head to look up at him. He smirks back and reaches down and starts to push off your shorts. “Take those off and turn around,” he says with a wink.

He moves his body to lay flat on his back, smiles and motions for you to take your place on top of him. He gently lowers you to his mouth, anchoring his mouth to your warm flower and began to flick his tongue up and down the slit. You were frantically trying to push his pants down from his waist, but the sensation he was creating as he was lapping at your box was making it hard for you to do anything. He used two fingers to open you up, plunging his tongue in as far as he could. You fell down quickly, taking his dick in your mouth again, your moans vibrating against his already pulsating member, making it hard for him to hold off. “Stop,” he desperately tells you. “I want to wait for you.”

You pull your mouth away and lay your head on his thigh, too weak to move in any other position, and you hold his rock in your hand. “You make me feel so good, Roger,” you groan, kissing his thighs close to his erection. His tongue moves to flick over your clit as his fingers move inside you, rapidly moving in and out. “Keep doing that,” you command him. “Don’t stop.” He’s enjoying this, and he could do it all night, but he’s about to explode, and he wants you to explode with him. You can hear the sounds of his tongue moving against your wet flower. You’re getting close, too, so you lift your head and take him back in your mouth, sucking on him hard and pulsing up and down quickly, his moaning against your core making it easy for you to release every ounce of pressure you have been holding in for the exact moment he is ready to burst with you.

He came first, his load shooting down your throat, and feeling the tremor his deep moan made against you helped you cum immediately after. After catching your breath, you climb off him and stand up. He scoots up a bit and pulls you back down next to him. “That was a nice way to wake up,” he says with a smile as he gently runs his fingers up and down your arm. “What time is it anyway?” He looks around to find a clock.

“Almost 11,” you sigh after realizing how late it was. You’re usually in bed at this time since you have to wake up early to get to work on time. You start to sit up but he pulls you back down again. “It’s late…”

“I don’t care,” he chuckles.

“You just want to stay like this the rest of the night?” you laughed. “Can I at least put my shorts back on? I’m cold.” You lean over to grab them off the floor but Roger pulls you back again.

“No,” he fusses. “Easier access this way,” he says with a laugh as he holds you tight, but you manage to wiggle yourself free and put your shorts on. “Are you kicking me out?” he asks, amused at this sudden spurt of awkwardness that seems to have taken over you.

“You are more than welcome to stay,” you tell him with your hands on your hips. “I have to go to bed or I’ll never make it to work on time. It takes 37 minutes to get there, and I have to wake up at 6 or I’ll miss the bus…” He’s laughing at your rambling and you’re getting frustrated. “What?”

He pulls you back down to the sofa. “It took me 15 minutes to get here from there.” He can see in your face that you don’t understand why he’s telling you this. “I can drive you there in the morning.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you say. “Why come all the way over here to…” You raise an eyebrow, wondering if he’s trying to say what you think he’s trying to say.

“Am I welcome to stay or not?” he asks. “Because if I am, I would like to go to bed.” You wanted him to stay. You always wanted him to stay but he never did. And you knew if he did stay, that wouldn’t be good for this “no emotional attachment” rule you were doing very good at not breaking. This was just sex, that’s it. Good sex – okay, exceptional sex – and fun. Nothing more. That whole falling asleep together and waking up next to each other thing? Well, that was a door you didn’t know if you wanted to open.

“Stay,” you whispered with a grin. You immediately regretted it, but it was too late now. “Let’s go to bed.”

The two of you laid in bed, not touching each other, not knowing if you should be talking – not sure of anything anymore. “Roger?” you call to get his attention.

He rolls over on his side you look at you. “If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here. If I didn’t enjoy your company, I wouldn’t be here. And I would never tell you all of this if I had any intention of never speaking to you again after we’re done recording.”

He answered every single question you wanted to ask him but would never dare. You didn’t want this to get serious right now (or ever), and you definitely didn’t want him thinking he could read your mind, so you had to think fast. “That’s nice,” you tell him rather dryly, being completely sarcastic. “How do I know you’re not just saying that?”

He started to do his playful growl and climbed over you to hover, tickling you and nibbling on your neck, making you laugh hysterically. “Just because you’ll say anything as long as the dick is big enough doesn’t mean I’m like that,” he mocked, referencing what you told Alan that night at the bar.

“I bet,” you laughed. “You probably tell all the girls that.”

He pins your hands above your head and gives you a sneaky grin. “Probably,” he says before bending down to give you a quick peck on the lips. “But you’re not those other girls.”

You grunt and roll your eyes, still laughing. “I’m sure you tell them that too,” you giggle. “You’re supposed to just be here for the sex and I’m supposed to be the emotional one.”

“If this was just about sex, I wouldn’t still be here,” he tells you. “I’d have been back at my place by now.” You stop laughing and look at him somewhat concerned, which makes him start to chuckle. “Am I making you nervous again?”

“Yes, you’re making me fucking nervous,” you grunt, pulling your hands free from his grip and pushing him off of you as you sit up. He lays back down, hands behind his head on the pillow and looks up at you with a grin. “This isn’t supposed to be anything more than…”

“I didn’t agree to that,” he bluntly stated, but with the grin still on his face. “You’re the one who insisted on that. I’m just going along with it.”

You throw yourself back down onto the bed, laying your head on your pillow, turned on your side, facing him, who is still grinning at you. “You’ve got to be joking right now,” you laughed. “Like I’m going to allow myself to get serious about you.” You can tell those words stung him a little bit and you felt terrible. It wasn’t your intention. “What I mean is, you’ll be done with your recording and then you’ll go back to London, and I’ll be here, and…”

“And what?” he asked. “That’s it? You’ll be done?” He had to be amused by the whole situation. He was always the one being the brutally honest one, the one taking what he wanted, and then moving on when he was done.

“You’ll be done,” you tell him, poking him in the chest. “I’ll still be here, living my mundane life, and you’ll be out there living yours.” You climb on top of him, his arms still behind his head, your hands resting on either side of him. “And if you say it’s not going to be like that, you’re lying.”

“Okay,” he chuffs as he pushes you off of him and grabs you, pulling you close to him. “Then I won’t say it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

  
The next morning he shuffles into the kitchen, looking completely spent but wearing a huge smile. “Good morning,” you chuckle. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm hmm,” he mumbled as he walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You still smell like strawberries,” he chuckled. “I’d kiss you but I don’t have a toothbrush,” he said as he gave you a peck on the top of your head.

“I have a new one in the bathroom closet,” you tell him as you wave your hand back. “Toothpaste is in the medicine cabinet above the sink.” He lets go of you and starts to walk to the bathroom. “Hey, Roger?” you call him, and he turns around. You don’t know why you called him because you don’t even know what you want to say. Instead, you just smile, and he smiles in return before disappearing down the hall.

The two of you walked into the studio together. Jack was already there with Brian and they didn’t notice you come in, so you decided to take advantage of the last few seconds of privacy and pulled him down for a kiss. “Let me take you somewhere tonight,” he said, completely throwing you off guard. “Dinner. A movie. Something.”

Before you could answer, your boss, Kevin - the studio owner, walks in. “Oh good, you’re here,” he hollers, completely ignoring the fact that Roger was standing right there. “I need you down in San Diego. The idiots down there don’t know their asses from a hole in the ground.” He walked in his office and you looked at Roger, who was just as lost as you were. “Just for a couple of days. Shouldn’t be longer than that.”

“But, I don’t…”

“I know but you have to,” he tells you with his booming voice. “Here,” he says as he hands you a wad of cash. “For gas, food and a room.” He tosses you a car key. “Take the car. Don’t mess her up.” All you can do is stand there. “Here’s the address,” he hands you a slip of paper he just scribbled on. “Go home and get your things. It’s a 3 hour drive.” He walks in his office and slams the door.

You turn back to Roger, looking defeated. “Raincheck?” you ask.

“Of course,” he softly says with an equally soft smile. He takes the paper out of your hand and writes down his phone number. “Call me tonight so I know you’re safe.” He winks and kisses you one more time before walking back into the studio.

You finally get back to the dingy, cheap hotel room you rented for the night. You could have splurged for a nicer place, but this one is right across the street from where you need to be in the morning. You’re only here for a couple of nights anyway. It’s almost midnight – you lost track of time when you were at the bar next door having a good time with some of the locals. There was one in particular who caught your eye, and you really wanted to invite them back to your room, but you didn’t. You had a phone call to make anyway.

“This better be you, Y/N,” Roger answered, his voice raspy, sounding a mixture of sleepy and worry. “I’ve been worried fucking sick.”

“It’s me, Roger. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it is.”

“Really?” He wasn’t happy. He was upset. Not angry, just… annoyed. “What were you doing? No one, I hope.”

You start to giggle. He’s upset, and you know he is, but you find his tone a bit endearing, and cute. “I was having some drinks. That’s all. I’m sorry,” you tell him, right before it dawned on you what he had just said. “And no, I wasn’t doing anyone, asshole.”

“Better not,” he chuckled deeply. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing,” you say as your tone turns more relaxed, quieter. “Just got into bed.”

“All alone,” he said, his tone lowering, too. “Shame.” Just hearing his voice was soothing you. You didn’t realize how high strung you were today until he started talking in that soft, raspy voice. “Are you thinking about me?” he asks.

You giggle, with just a hint of embarrassment, because you absolutely were. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I am.”

“Thinking about my lips grazing yours, moving them down to your neck,” he whispers back. “My fingers running down your body…” He hears you. He hears your breathing get heavier and he smiles to himself. “I’m thinking about it too.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask once you clear your throat of that pocket of air that seemed to build up. You don’t know what else to say. He’s got you flustered.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers. “Spread your legs and touch yourself for me. Imagine those are my fingers running over your skin, down to that pretty little clit of yours.”

“You’re such a tease,” you breathlessly whisper, doing everything with your fingers he’s describing to you right now.

He chuckles. “If I was there I would be teasing you. Kissing every inch of you,” he stops and takes a deep breath. “Running my tongue all over you, tasting every single bit of you. Teasing your clit then sliding my fingers inside you.”

His breathing is starting to match yours. “Tell me what you’re doing right now,” you murmur. “Are you…”

He doesn’t give you the chance to finish asking. “Imaging your mouth wrapped around my cock.”

“My tongue licking around the tip, letting you feel the warmth of my mouth,” you whisper. “You like when I go slow, don’t you.”

“I’m so fucking hard right now, Y/N,” he gasps. “Wish I could be buried deep inside of you.”

You start biting your bottom lip, remembering exactly how he feels when he’s inside you. “I wish you were here right now so I could feel you…”

“So I could see your face when you cum for me,” he whispers. “I love watching you cum.”

“I love feeling you cum inside me,” you tell him, both of your breathing getting heavier and deeper.

He can barely talk anymore. “I think I’m going to cum just thinking about it,” he groans. You start moving your fingers faster and start to moan. “Fuck, babe. I love hearing you moan like that.”

“You gonna cum for me, Roger?” you ask. “Because I’m about to…” You couldn’t even finish your statement. Both of you climaxed at the same time, hearing each other in your ear through the phone receiver and you both start to giggle.

“I made a mess,” he laughed. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Wow, indeed.”

“Still my naughty little minx,” he chuckles. “What are you doing to me?”

“Same thing you’re doing to me,” you tell him, your tone almost serious. The two of you sit there, quiet, listening to each other breathing over the phone. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the headboard.

“Get some sleep,” he tells you, breaking the silence. “Call me tomorrow.”

You can hear him smiling on the other end, and it brings a smile to your face. “I will,” you whisper. “I’ll make sure it’s not so late,” you giggle.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says before hanging up the phone.

 

 


	3. “I can give you chaos if you want it.”

  
“Tonight,” Roger mumbles in your ear before he heads out the door earlier than usual. “You and me. I don’t have to be back here until tomorrow afternoon.”

You bite down on the pen in your hand and look at him apologetically. “I can’t tonight,” you groan. “My friend is home from college for the summer and a few of us are going out.”

He looks at you curiously. “I thought you said you only came to work and went to that bar? Miss ‘I’m quite boring.’”

“I have my moments,” you smirk. “And I live for chaos, really, so I need to have my boring cooling-off periods sometimes.” Your boss yells for you from his office so you stand up to go see what he needs. “You just happened to meet me during one of those periods.”

After getting back to your desk, you see Roger sitting in your chair with his feet propped up, tapping your pen on his teeth. “I happen to be really good at chaos,” he informs you. “I can give you chaos if you want it.”

He seems a little bothered, so you decide to keep picking at him. “Oh, you give me chaos,” you grin, “but tonight I need a different kind of chaos.” He raised his eyebrow at you, not amused. “I’m going out with my friends. We’re going dancing. Have some drinks. Then I’m going home.” His expression didn’t change. “Are you…?”

“I am not jealous or concerned or anything you want to ask,” he tells you, but you can tell he’s bothered. “Tomorrow then?” he asked. “It’s been…”

“Four days,” you giggle. “Four days.” You sit down on your desk since he’s not budging from your chair and cross your legs.

He put his feet on the floor and leaned in close. “Do your friends know about me?”

“They know who you are,” you tell him, knowing damn good and well that’s not what he’s asking. You hope that’s enough to pacify him, but you can tell by the face he’s giving you that it’s not. “Do your friends know about me?” you asked him with a raised brow.

He started to laugh. “Clearly they do.”

You chuff. They would be completely blind if they didn’t. They see how the two of you act around each other, how he sneaks off and talks to you all the time, and how you look at each other from across the room. “Of course they know,” you smirk. “I’m your little plaything in L.A.”

That statement did not sit well with him, judging by how his brows started to wrinkle. “That’s what you think you are? Just some plaything to keep me entertained?” He stood up from the chair and whispered in your ear. “That’s not what you are at all, Y/N.”

You don’t believe him, or maybe you don’t want to believe him because you don’t want to get emotionally attached. “If you say so,” you smirk. You don’t want to argue with him or have any semblance of a deep conversation with him about all of this, so you brush him off.

He started to chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m making you nervous again.” You roll your eyes as you giggle and flip him off. “Tomorrow then,” he tells you.

Something inside of you snapped. You weren’t angry, just a little perturbed. _He really thinks all he has to do is snap and I’m there?_ you complain to yourself. _Just like some plaything he says I’m not?_ You clear your throat. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings,” you tell him.

He really doesn’t like this change in your attitude, but he knows he has absolutely no right to say anything about it. All he can do is smirk, because he knows he has you right where he wants you. He knows you’ll be wherever he wants you to be tomorrow. He knows all of your buttons to push. He knows you more than you think he does. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” he tells you before walking out the door.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You walk into work the next afternoon, feeling like a complete wreck – probably looking like one too, but you don’t care because you are proud of yourself for actually being able to climb out of bed. You walk directly to your desk, sunglasses still on, so focused on making it to your chair so you can lay your head down that you don’t even look through the window to the studio like you always do.

Roger sees you creeping in and sneaks out to see you. “How was your evening of chaos?” he asked with a snicker, noticing your complete inability to even attempt acting normal. You made no attempt to fix your hair as evidenced by the messy ponytail, your clothes looked like you just rolled out of bed, but yet he still looked at you like he he always does.

“Kind of bland, actually,” you joked. “Hardly chaotic.” You grin at him, unable to resist the smile on his face that always makes your insides flutter. “So what’s going on around here today?” you ask.

He grunts, obviously annoyed. “Brian and John invited some band we met last night here to watch today.” The smile comes back to his face. “We went to that bar you like,” he said before leaning down closer to you. “Thought I may have seen you there, but you didn’t show up.” He sat down on your desk after taking a look inside the studio. “These guys were playing, sounded pretty good so we started talking to them.”

_Oh no_ , you think to yourself. You know who the band is. They play at your bar every Friday night, and you may have become pretty acquainted with the bass player once or twice… or five times. Or more. Okay, so maybe almost all of last year. You slowly stand up and take a peek in the studio. “Just great,” you mumble, not realizing you said that out loud. It’s not that you hated him – things ended cordially between the two of you and you stayed friends. This was just really, really awkward.

“I guess you know them?” Roger laughed, hearing you and seeing what he could of your expression. “Take off those sunglasses, Y/N. You look like you’re hiding from someone.” You take off your glasses and glare at him, and he realizes the hypocrisy of what he just said, given how he’s prone to wear his sunglasses inside a lot. “So,” he walks up behind you and puts his hands on your hips. “Which one?” He rests his chin on your shoulder and chuckles.

You nudge your body back against his, pushing him away as you laugh. “Hmm, wouldn’t you like to know,” you tease, turning to face him and pinching his cheek and sitting back down and resting your head on the desk. You hear him walk away, but not into the studio, then hear him walking back. He puts a hand on your back and bends down. “Drink some water,” he tells you as he rubs your back. “You won’t feel better if you don’t hydrate.” You lift your head up and see him right there, smiling that irresistible smile again. You take the cup of water he brought to you and take a sip.

The studio door flings open and Jack starts talking loudly because he knows it annoys you. “Rog, they need you,” he says. “Y/N, Freddie wants you.” _No_ , _no_ , _no_ , you moan to yourself. _I_ _don’t_ _want_ to _go_ _in_ _there_. “Come on, he needs your ear.”

You slowly stand up, wanting to melt right there into the floor so you don’t have to deal with the impending discomfort. Roger unconsciously puts his hand on the small of your back as the three of you walk in. As soon as you do, you see him – you see John. Not _that_ John. The other John, or J.D. since he thought it made him sound cooler to use his initials. “Y/N!” he exclaims, excited to see you, as he jumps up from the sofa he’s sitting on and quickly makes his way to you. Roger stands his ground, not moving from behind you. “Gorgeous, as always,” J.D. quietly says as he looks you up and down with a smirk.

“Oh, kiss my ass,” you laugh as you slap his arm. “I look like I got rolled over by a train.” You walk away and go sit next to Jack by the controls after telling the other guys hello, and after he explains the issue the other guys are having, you put the headphones on so you can hear in the booth.

“… looked like a stand-off in one of those old western movies out there,” you hear John jokingly quip to Roger as they’re all laughing. “What time’s the duel?”

“Alright, alright,” Roger fusses while he’s still laughing, none of them aware that you can hear everything that’s going on. “This isn’t some competition. She’s not some prize to be won. She’s…”

Freddie’s laughter is almost uncontrollable at this point but once Roger says that he stops. “Is our Roger actually…” He gasps dramatically but stops himself from saying something else when he sees you sitting there with the headphones on. He gives you a wink and starts to talk to you. “Hey, Y/N, lovey, I need you to listen to this closely. Something’s off.” You smile and nod your head, and they start to play their song for you.

Hours passed and they finally got the song done. Finally. You were quite proud of yourself for making it though. Your almost ignoring J.D. the whole time helped. You weren’t being rude. You’d speak when spoken to, but you didn’t initiate anything. The whole thing felt funny, being basically locked in a room with two guys who saw you at your rawest, but you survived. Honestly, you survived by never taking your eyes off of Roger. He noticed. He was doing the same with you.

You snuck out once everyone was done, trying to make it out the door and home before anyone saw you, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. “Where do you think you’re going?” Roger yelled as he walked in while you were bending down to get your purse, purposely to startle you.

Standing up and giving him an exasperated laugh, you yell back. “Stop _doing_ that!” He walks over to you and gives you a hug. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“Aww,” he chuckles. “But it’s so fun.” You break free from the hug and shake your head. “Were you leaving without saying goodbye?”

You rub a hand on his chest and giggle as you look up at him. “I figured you’d come find me.”

He winks and smiles. “We’re going get some drinks. Come with us.”

The last thing you wanted to do was drink more. You drank enough last night to last a year. But dammit, he was giving you that smile again, and you can never say no to that smile. “Can I at least go home and freshen up a little first?” You give him that smirk you do where you bite your bottom lip and tell him exactly what you want without using any words. Your stubbornness made you want to not see him tonight because of how he just assumed you would during yesterday’s conversation, but that damn smile made it impossible to do. The plan was – at least in your head – for Roger to bring you home to change and, well, whatever happened once you were there would be beyond your control.

Everyone else came walking in the second you finished your question, discussing who was riding with who. “Hey Rog how many can you fit?” John asks. Roger holds up one finger and John starts to laugh. “Bullshit you can hold at least three.” They start coordinating everyone and you all head to the cars.

And, of course, J.D. follows you to Roger’s car. And, of _course_ , he sits behind you. And, _of_ _course_ , he leans up to get in ear shot of you and only you when he starts to talk to you. “It’s good to see you again,” he tells you. You turn and give him a smile but don’t answer. When Roger pulls up to your apartment, you jump out of the car. J.D. was starting to get out of the car to follow you, but you hear Roger start talking to him to keep him from following.

After hurrying and changing your into one of your short mini skirts, brushing your hair and freshening up your perfume, you rush back out and jump in the car. “Feeling better?” Roger asks as he shifts the car into drive and patting your leg. You smile and nod and subtly move his hand away and direct your eyes to the backseat so he knew why. It wasn’t because you didn’t want it there, but because you didn’t want the two guys in the backseat to be in your business. Roger understood, at least he seemed to.

Everyone was enjoying themselves at the bar, all of you congregated at one of the large booths in the back. People recognized you because you were a regular patron, and they recognized everyone else because, well, why wouldn’t they? So there was a constant flow of visitors in the area. There was also a constant flow of alcohol, and your nerves keep you allowing that flow to enter your body. You were sandwiched right between Roger and J.D. in the booth and you hated it because both of them keep vying for your attention and it’s annoying. It’s almost at if there’s a dick size competition going on between the two of them and you’re almost to the point where you want to tell the both of them to fuck off so you can leave. J.D. was trying way too hard. It was pathetic to watch. Roger was just being Roger, making crude (but funny) jokes and insults. And his hand kept grazing you under the table, and your hand kept grazing him. And to taunt him even further, you went and ordered a strawberry daiquiri, making sure he tasted it, and he would lick the damn straw when he would take a sip… “When can we leave?” you whisper in his ear.

“Not yet,” he whispers back in yours. “Soon.”

Roger gets up to go grab another pack of cigarettes from his car and J.D. takes this as his opportunity to talk to you uninterrupted. He lays his arms around your shoulders and scoots closer, his face way too close to yours. “We had fun together, didn’t we?” He sighed and threw his head back against the seat. “I don’t know why I let you walk away.”

“You had no choice,” you grinned. “It was my call.” You scoot away from him and try to start talking to Brian, but J.D. doesn’t want to lose your attention.

“Remember that night we went down to the beach, and the campfire…” he started to reminisce, but you didn’t want to listen.

“That was a good night,” you smiled, staying polite because you really did like this guy. He never did you wrong, and he was a friend. “Hey, so how cool is all of this?” you ask, trying to turn his attention that you and he and the rest of his band were sitting in this booth with bonafide rock stars. “Did you ever think this would be us?” As soon as you said that, he leaned in and kissed you, but you don’t kiss him back, instead softly pushing him away. “I’m sorry, J.D., but no.” He pushed his lips into a tight, unimpressed smirk and shook his head, completely unamused, partially because he was completely embarrassed. “It’s just… I…” Your words were stumbling.

“I get it,” he tells you.

He keeps talking but your eyes look over and see Roger standing there, his arms crossed, immediately locking eyes with his. He gives you a small smile that only you can see, and you hurry and pat J.D. on the shoulder. “Hey, it was really nice seeing you again, but I have to go.” He moves so you can get out of the booth. “I had a long night last night and I’m really tired.” When you stood up, he asked if he could call you sometime, but you didn’t answer. Your eyes were locked elsewhere and that’s where your focus was.

When you walk into your apartment, Roger slams the door behind him and quickly grabs you from behind, one hand cupping a breast and the other reaching down and cupping your crotch underneath your skirt. “You’re not getting away that easy,” he says with a fevered pitch in his voice, holding your body right against his. He walks forward, and you have no choice but to do the same, stopping as he gets you close to your kitchen table, bending you forward on top of it. You hold yourself up on your arms, his upper body laying on top of your back as he lifts up your skirt and pulls down your panties. He starts to kiss you softly on your shoulders, down your spine and to your ass cheeks, and keeps littering you with kisses down the back of your leg until he kneels underneath you. When he’s positioned, he grabs your hips and moves you so you’re perfectly aligned with his mouth. He gently nudges your legs apart and starts to work his magic with his tongue.

He can see every expression you make through the glass table top, every time you open your mouth to release a moan, as he flicks his tongue rapidly over your clit, still holding on to your hips. Your eyes are closed, making sure nothing distracts you from the feeling of his warm mouth caressing your entire essence. You try to stay quiet but you can’t. “Oh my god,” you moan loudly. “So fucking good.”

Your reactions only make him work that much harder, pulling your hips down to get you closer to him. “I love how you taste,” he grunts. You push yourself up so you could see him. You love watching him work down there. As you stand, you grab a handful of the hair at the top of his head and look down at him, he looking up at you, never moving his eyes away. You watch him consume you, and with every sound you make, his tongue presses a little harder, his lips suck a little longer, until you’re begging him not to stop. He teases your pearl ever so gently with his tongue, tugs softly on your lips and starts to moan himself, clearly loving every single bit of you he’s tasting. Still holding on to his hair, you push his face in closer as you start to feel all pressure building up, needing to release soon.

“I’m cumming,” you whisper. “Fuck, Roger. You…” You can’t finish what you were about to say. Every ounce of energy you had leaves your body as soon as your climax hits. He holds you close, not moving his mouth away until you’re completely finished. Breathless, you look down at him and smile, finally letting go of his hair. “Where did that come from?” you ask with a giggle. “Wow.”

He stands up, running his hands up your body as he did, until his hands reach your cheeks. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he shrugs and laughs quietly, leaning in for a kiss after you pucker up. “I think they heard you,” he jokes as he nods his head towards the wall that’s connected to your neighbor’s apartment.

“Oh well,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a long, drawn out kiss. “I’m not done with you yet,” you smirk as you slide one hand down his chest to his pants over his bulge. He takes a deep breath in excitement as you quickly undo his pants and yank them down, grab hold of his cock that is already standing at attention, slowly moving your hand up and down.

He lifts your shirt over your head before frantically taking his off. He grabs your head and brings your mouth to his, plunging his tongue inside of yours, kissing you hard, before turning you around. “I’m not done with you either,” he mumbles, as he starts to lightly bite on your shoulder as one hand slides up to gently hold your throat and the other makes its way to your mound, teasing you with his fingers. “Still my naughty little minx,” he growls in your ear. “This,” he says as he shoves two fingers inside of you, “is mine, understand?”

You reach your hand back and grab his cock and turn your head back to look at him. “And this?” you ask, panting.

“All yours,” he whispers before leaning down to kiss you, biting your bottom lip and pulling away before he pushes you back to the table, and you catch yourself with your hands. “I don’t plan on giving you up any time soon.” He runs a hand down your back and over your ass cheeks that he decides to spank, causing you to twitch. “Lay down,” he orders as pushes you down further, giving you another hard slap on your ass. “Good girl,” he grunts as he shoves his rock hard dick into you from behind. He tightly grabs your hips and pulls you into him, both of you panting in unison.

You move a hand to your core and start to rub your clit, something he doesn’t miss noticing, and it turns him on even more than he already is. You start to push back into him, moaning and screaming every time the tip of his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. He keeps a steady pace, leaning his body on top of yours, letting you hear his hard breathing right in your ear. “Fuck,” you moan. “Your cock fits so perfectly…”

“Teasing me all night,” he whispers in your ear, his words catching in his throat. “Thinking you could get away with it.” Your moans get louder, and he’s finding it hard to control himself. “I want you to cum, Y/N,” he growls in your ear. “All over me. I know you’re ready.” He can feel your walls start to grip is dick harder and harder. He grabs your hair as he stands up and pulls you up to meet him, still fucking you hard from behind. “Rub yourself harder and cum for me.”

You reach your free hand around his waist, grabbing him hard, making him pulse into you even harder than he was already. “I’m cumming, Roger!” you scream. “You’re making me fucking cum!”

“Fuck, Y/N!” he groans, loud enough to cause an echo. He gives you one more hard push and holds himself in, letting you feel everything explode inside of you. “Fuck,” he gasps, feeling your walls shake around his dick still holding inside of you. He reaches a hand around to your chest, holding you up so you both don’t fall in your moment of sheer weakness, before gently guiding you back down to the table so you can regain your strength.

You both stay there, you against the table and his chest still pressed against your back, panting and catching your breaths, both breathlessly chuckling. “Remind me to tease you more often,” you giggle.

“You’ll be the end of me, Y/N,” he chuckles. “Wearing me out.” He stands up and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

You look up at him and smile. “I mean, we can just stop doing this, if it’s a problem,” you say quietly. “I don’t want to be responsible for you having an early retirement.”

“Absolutely not,” he kiddingly fusses. “You’re my new addiction.”

“Hmm,” you hum as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Don’t want you having withdrawals or anything. Could get ugly. Chaotic, even.” You raise yourself up and give him a soft kiss.

He looks down at you with an adoring smile. “Nothing wrong with a bit of chaos now and then.”


	4. “You’re going to make this awkward aren’t you?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a bit more serious than Reader would like during a night alone with Roger at the studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m over on Tumblr (same name!) and am taking my cues for this story from everyone over there, so join in over there or leave me comments! I love suggestions!

_One_ _month_ _and_ _3_ _days_ , you think to yourself as you sit at your desk and look through the window into the studio, watching Roger sitting at the soundboard with headphones on, deeply concentrating on whatever it is he’s listening to. Brian’s sitting next to him scribbling something and John’s fiddling around with his bass. You’re not paying them any attention. Your eyes are fixed on Roger, and you can’t turn them away, no matter how hard you try. Stop it, you fuss at yourself. _Turn_ _away_ _right_ _now_ _and_ _do_ _the_ _stupid_ _bookwork_ _before_ _Kevin_ _comes_ _back_ _tomorrow_ _and_ _fires_ _you_ _because_ _you’re_ _too_ _busy_ _daydreaming_. You force yourself to turn around and focus on the task in front of you. Three months of bank statements he couldn’t be bothered to balance out, and he just threw it at you, expecting you to fix everything. “This isn’t what I signed up for,” you mumble, not realizing you had company.

“Well you didn’t sign up for that either, but you sure are doing it,” Jack laughs, making you glare up at him and seeing him point at the window. “You’ve got yourself a big distraction now, don’t you?” You keep glaring at him, wishing he would just shut up. “Usually they’re the ones distracted by you,” he laughs as he sits on your desk. “Remember when Kevin gave you those two weeks off when…”

“Shut up, Jack,” you say, completely frustrated and not wanting to recount the time that fucking creep from that band you don’t even want to think about didn’t know how to keep his hands or his filthy thoughts to himself. “I have a ton of work to do and you’re not helping.”

“Cheer up, kid,” he says as he stands up and pats you on the shoulder. “You’ll get it done.” He walks back into the studio and taps on the window to get your attention. When you look back, he’s got a big, cheesy grin on his face as he waves and closes the blinds, making sure you don’t get distracted again.

It didn’t help. Not in the slightest. Roger was in your head and he wouldn’t leave. You keep reflecting on everything that happened the past few weeks. Of course, sex happened – but it wasn’t just that anymore. You were enjoying each other’s company _without_ the sex. He’d come over and you’d watch a movie, and you’d fall asleep on the sofa, and he’d cover you with the blanket and let you sleep, sometimes even staying there until he fell asleep too. Or you’d go to the Santa Monica Pier, just to get out and have a fun time somewhere he was able to blend. One night you stayed out on your balcony until almost 3 in the morning doing nothing more than sharing silly childhood stories. It didn’t complicate anything but your feelings, and that wasn’t supposed to happen. Feelings weren’t ever supposed to be involved, but it was hard for them not to be now. Not now that he knew your birthday, and you knew each other’s favorite colors, and you knew about things he did to cause trouble when he was 13, and he knew your sister’s name… Things casual hookups don’t know about each other. He’s picked up on your habit of pushing your hair behind your ear when you’re deep in thought, just like you picked up on his nervous habit of rubbing his hand on his shoulder to calm himself down.

You’re almost finished with half of the book balancing finally, an hour after you started, when Freddie and that creep manager of his who was like his shadow walked in. “Got tired of being gawked at all the time?” he giggled when he saw the window was closed. “Or did you get tired of doing the gawking?”

You purse your lips into a grin, trying not to giggle back, but you end up giggling anyway. “Hi, Freddie. Glad to see you could make it.” “Not you too!” he dramatically cries out. “I don’t need another person nagging me.”

You smirk and turn your attention back to your work as he walks into the studio. “Nice to see you, Fred,” you can hear Roger yell out while the door was open. “Hey, who closed the window?” _Took_ _him_ _long_ _enough_ _to_ _notice_ , you grunted to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “That’s blocking my view…” you hear him say as the door closes, which gives you a little grin.

Two hours. For two hours you’ve been working on this stupid bank balance and you don’t think your brain can handle anymore. How it could get so messed up you don’t know, but you couldn’t look at another number right now or you were going to lose it. You slam your head down on the stack of paper that’s laying in front of you, wanting to cry, when the studio door opens and everyone starts walking out, laughing and talking without a care in the world. You don’t even want to look up at them. You’re enjoying your momentary zone out.

“We’re going grab lunch, kiddo,” Jack yells at you. “Wanna come?”

You look up, completely drained. “It’s only lunch time?” you ask, almost whining.

“It’s almost 3:00,” he tells you. “Want me to bring you something?”

You shake your head no and start to look back at the numbers. “I need to figure this out. I can’t get the damn thing right. I hate math.”

Brian calmly walks over and peeks at what you’re doing. You look up at him, confused, and he points at the total you have and the one you should have. “You transposed numbers somewhere when you were adding,” he tells you with a smile. “Add the numbers in this together.” He pushes you the calculator and before you finish he says “they’re all going to add up to 9.” He squats down to get even with you and talks you through it. “Add the 7 and 2 in that 72 together, and you get… 9.” You glare over at him and he’s smiling. “Now add this all up again. Carefully, this time,” he chuckles. And what do you know – it balanced. “Just a trick I leaned some time ago,” he smiled as he stood up. “Now you can come with us.”

Roger’s standing in front of you with his arms crossed, shaking his head in amusement. “Well aren’t you the fucking hero,” he sarcastically quips at Brian before looking at you. “Come,” he tells you, holding out his hand. “I insist.”

Everyone decided on the greasy diner across the street from the studio and crowded into a booth, leaving Jack to sit in a chair on the end. It was an uncomfortable arrangement, but you didn’t complain too much, since this was the most contact you had with Roger all day. He sat with his arm behind you on the seat, not even realizing that he kept rubbing your shoulder. He was watching you closely as you ate the strawberry pancakes you cheekily ordered (and yes, he found it incredibly funny), and when you were leaning over the table to be able to hear John better when he was talking to you, showing you the lyrics he had jotted down for his song they were going to be working on tomorrow.

“Do you think they flow?” he asked you. “I think this sounds stupid but I don’t know. It may work.”

You read the part he was pointing to and smiled. “I think it’s perfect. Simple, to the point, and perfect.”

The discussion you were having with John went on for a little while, just the two of you, until Roger apparently got tired of you ignoring him and cleared his throat while tapping you on your shoulder to get your attention. “You’ve a key, right? For the studio?”

“Yeah?” you say, questioning why he wants to know. He starts to nudge you out of the booth. “Lets go. Need to get something out of my head.”

You hurry and jump up and the two of you head back across the street. When you open the door, he hurries and locks it back and keeps the shades closed on the windows, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to him. “Hey,” he says with a grin.

“Hey, you,” you grin back. “What’s in your head that you have to get out?”

“My ex,” he started. “She’s coming here. To Los Angeles. For a few days.” You look at him, wondering why he’s so fidgety when he’s telling you this, and why he’s even telling you this in the first place. “I told her she can stay at mine…” Now he’s looking at you wondering why you don’t seem to be bothered by any of this, and his brows start to furrow.

You start to giggle. “Were expecting me to start screaming at you? Become some unhinged lunatic or something?”

“A little bit, yeah,” he smiled. “But you’re too relaxed and I don’t know how to handle it.”

You pull him down by his shirt to get close to you and whisper deeply in his ear. “Does she taste as good as me?”

He leans back and looks you in the eye with an intensity that sends shockwaves through your entire body. “No one tastes as good as you.”

“Then I have nothing to worry about,” you tell him with the same intensity he’s giving you right now, as you reach down to cup his crotch. “And you said this was all mine.”

“It is,” he whispered in your ear as he chuckles deeply and moves his hand to your chest. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you later.” He started to say more, but he’s interrupted by a knock on the door. You can hear everyone outside talking. You roll your eyes and start to walk away so you can open the door, but he grabs you and holds you back. “You’re all I can think about, Y/N.” You gaze up to him, your mouth slightly open with shock. There’s another knock on the door but you’re ignoring it. “You have a hold over me...” He cups your face in his hands. “I can’t…”

He’s interrupted by a louder knock on the door, followed by Jack yelling. “Open the goddamn door, Y/N! Why is it locked?” You slide away to open the door and everyone pours in and heads directly to the recording room.

“Later,” Roger comes and whispers in your ear before joining them, “we’ll finish this conversation later.”

You were internally a jumbled mess for the rest of the day. Every nerve you had seemed to puddle right there in the pit of your stomach. _We’ll_ _finish_ _this_ _conversation_ _later_? Your brain wasn’t helping calm you down at all. None of this was ever supposed to get to where you’d have conversations later. This was just supposed to be sex and nothing more. _End_ _it_. _End_ _it_ , you kept telling yourself. _He_ _doesn’t_ _mean_ _anything_ _he_ _says_ , you try to convince yourself. _He_ _just_ _wants_ _to_ _make_ _sure_ _I_ _don’t_ … Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the recording room window.

Jack waves you over and you quietly walk in. “They’re working late and I can’t stay. Kid’s got some school thing. Can you stay to lock up?” You really didn’t want to. You’ve had such an exhausting day already, but you agree to stay.

You ended up falling asleep around 8:00, having been bored for the past hour and giving up all hope for a quiet evening at home in front of the television with a bowl of ice cream. Everyone was frustrated – them in the studio and you out in the office. Their frustration is why you stayed out of there. You weren’t in the mood to listen to any bickering. Freddie woke you up when they were leaving – well, all of them were leaving except for Roger, who was still sitting behind his drum kit trying to work out a beat. “He needs your help with the playback,” John told you. “Think you can handle that?”

“All I have to do is press buttons,” you grinned. “I think I can do that.”

When they left, you quietly walked in the studio and sat down at the controls. He didn’t notice you. He was focused on his drums, so you didn’t disturb him. You could see the annoyance in his face until he looked up and saw you sitting there. “Hey there,” he said through the mic. You smiled and gave a small wave. “Play that tape and listen to this…” And you did. Ten times, ten different cadences, and you recorded them all for him. That was about the extent of your abilities – pressing three buttons. “Come in here,” he said with a sigh.

When you walk in he turns on his stool and holds his arms out, beckoning you for a hug. You smile and go to him, and he wraps his arms around your hips and rests his head against your stomach. “Rough day?” you joke as you run your fingers through his hair. _Well_ _this_ _is_ _sweet_ , you tell yourself. 

“So frustrating,” he mumbles. “Nothing went right after we stopped for lunch.” He closed his eyes and started chuckling deep in his throat. “That feels nice.” You lean down and kiss him on top his head.

“Just relax,” you mumble. _What_ _are_ _you_ _doing_ , _Y_ / _N_? you fuss yourself. He squeezes you tighter, and the two of you stay just like this for a couple of minutes before he looks up at you and smiles and puckers his lips, which you gladly lean down and give a quick peck to. _You’re_ _such_ _an_ _idiot_ , _Y/N_.

He lets go of his hold and pats his lap. “Sit,” he tells you, and you do, and holds your waist as he spins his stool around and grabs two drumsticks. “Ever played before?”

“Oh yeah, all the time,” you say sarcastically. “In fact, I’m so good that when Keith Moon died, The Who wanted me to be his replacement.” He poked at you with one of the sticks and started laughing. “Never even held a drumstick before.”

He hands them to you and you take them. “Well that’s going to change,” he tells you as he adjusts them in your hands. He rests his chin on your shoulder and you start to giggle. “You’re going to make this awkward, aren’t you?” You can’t stop giggling as he holds your hands and starts moving them to hit the drum heads while he glides them around.

You aren’t paying much attention. His foot stomping on the bass drum pedal is, well… creating a vibration. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, still giggling. “I’m not a very good student. My teacher is quite a distraction.”

He stops, and he’s giggling now too. “Well it’s hard to be a good teacher when my student is also a distraction.” He rubs his hands up your arms before wrapping himself around you and squeezing you gently into him. He clears his throat, his chin still resting on your shoulder. “I need you to let me all the way in, Y/N.” You turned your head quickly and looked at him, totally confused. “What are you feeling? Right now. Right this second. What are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” you whisper and you both start to giggle.

“That’s not what I mean, silly,” he says as he pokes you jokingly. “I mean, what are you feeling about… us?” You turn your head to him quickly again, looking confused again, and your mouth opens but no words are coming out. “I feel like there’s more to this.” Still, no words can come out of your mouth. “I feel like you’re scared…” You hold a hand of to his mouth, hoping he’ll stop, but instead he moves your hand away. “It’s okay,” he whispers, “because I’m scared too.” For the first time in your life, you’re completely speechless. “But I’m not willing to let that stop me.”

You look up to the ceiling, understanding everything he’s trying to tell you right now, trying to find words. You seem to have forgotten all words. “Roger,” you sigh. “Please…”

“Don’t tell me not to feel, Y/N,” he whispers. “I can’t do that.” He holds two fingers under your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me,” he whispers, and you do. And you completely surrender. “I know you feel it. You can’t tell me you don’t.” Your heart is beating so fast you’re scared it’s going to burst. Your breathing is getting heavier and you’re still silent, wanting to tell him so bad how you feel – how you don’t want to feel – but you can’t. You can’t say anything. You’re lost in his gaze, his eyes controlling everything right now.

He nudges your hips, implying he wants you to stand up, so you do, and turn to face him, still holding the drumsticks in your hands. He glances up at you and gives you that damn smile that makes you turn into putty. He unbuttons your shirt, not taking it completely off, leaving it opened. He starts to softly kiss you on your stomach as he runs his hands over your hips and thighs, undoing your pants and slowly pulling them down. “These are new,” he tells your with a smirk, running his fingers over your panties, before reaching to grab one of the drumsticks you’re still holding from your hand, tossing it back and hitting something rather loudly. He stops caressing you and takes the other one from you, and he starts to toss it back as well, but he looks at you with somewhat of a devilish grin.

He starts to rub the tip of it along your body, across your stomach, down to your pelvis, then your upper thigh. He stands up as he continues to brush your skin, bringing it to the front of your covered mound, giving you another smirk as he grazes it over you right there. “What are you doing?” you ask him with a nervous giggle.

“Playing,” he whispers with a smile as he leans in for a kiss, giggling with you. He moves the stick away, tossing it behind him like he did the other one and laughing. “Won’t be needing that,” he quips. “I can take it from here.” This isn’t lust he’s exuding right now – this is _passion_. Absolute passion that you’ve never experienced before. Not with him or anybody else. And you loved it, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him the same.

You start to unbutton his shirt – that same shirt he was wearing your first time together, and it brought back a wave of memories that washed over you. He didn’t interfere with your undressing him, opting instead to stand there and smile at you, letting you slowly move his shirt off of his shoulders before running your hands down his chest to his waist. You were slipping off your shoes and stepping out of your pants as you unbuckled his belt. He brings a hand under your chin and you look up at him, and for the first time in all of the times you were with him, you felt the need to take it slow, to drink in every single second. He was feeling it too. If he wasn’t, you’d have already been completely naked and halfway to climaxing. He slipped out of his shoes as you finished unzipping his pants and pushed them down off of his waist, moving yourself down as you glided them completely off. It was quiet – almost eerily quiet. The only sounds were your breathing. You reach up and pull down his boxers, your mouth perfectly even with his cock. You say nothing. He says nothing. You bring your tongue to the tip of his member, slowly and softly licking him clean of the precum that has graced the head, before gliding down underneath the shaft as you hold it up. You feel him start to twitch, letting you know that you were doing everything exactly how you needed to be. When you lower your mouth to completely engulf him, he lets out a small moan and puts a hand on your head, not to guide you, but because he needed to touch you. He let you set the pace, giving up all control, something he had never done before. You start to hum quietly, sending gentle vibrations that he felt though his entire body. He didn’t want to finish – not yet. Not until he knew you were completely satisfied. But _fuck_ , the magic you were creating with your mouth and your tongue felt so good, and you were enjoying it, too. Every twitch, every soft moan, every deep breath you heard him take was getting you more and more aroused.

He takes a small step backwards, and when you look up at him, he’s softly smirking and wiggling a finger for you to stand up and meet him. You slowly stand, and when you do, he gently holds your face in his palms, drawing you in for a soft but deep kiss. There are still no words being spoken. No words need to be spoken. Your eyes and actions are doing all of the talking right now. He finishes taking off your shirt and reaches behind, unclasping your bra, guiding it slowly off of you, just as you had done with his shirt. He bends down and takes your nipple in his mouth, his other hand gently rubbing the other, as he flicks his tongue. Your head falls back, and this time you’re the one with the quiet moans. He raises up again to meet you, and gently guides you back, leaning you on his drum kit. He kisses you deeply again before slowly kissing his way down your neck, that valley right between your breasts, down your stomach and to right above your panties that he admired earlier.

He runs his fingers under the waistband and pulls them down, his breathing getting heavier as he revels at the perfection he sees before him. You feel his breath against your thigh before he lowers his mouth to continue kissing his way to his ultimate destination. With every touch his lips make on you, you flutter. Still, no words are spoken, only actions. When his mouth finally makes its way to your lips, you inhale deeply and your body jerks, causing one of the cymbals to crash down. But you don’t care, and neither does he. His concentration on your pleasure is undisturbed. The warmth of his breath on you, the gentleness of his mouth and his tongue working it’s magic on you causes your breathing to get deeper, quicker. You run a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingertips. He moves a hand that was resting on your thighs and pulls his head back so he can watch his fingers rub up and down your wetness as he hears your gentle moans getting louder. He looks up at you, his mouth agape in complete awe of you, and he sees you looking down at him, telling him everything he needs to know without saying a word. He watches your eyes as he steadily slides two fingers in, taking great care in making sure you’re able to feel every single motion he’s creating inside of you. He turns his tongue attention back to your flower, focusing on your clit, tenderly guiding it to emphasize your pleasure, his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh, Roger,” you whisper, finally breaking the silence that had befallen the two of you 20 minutes before. There’s so much you want to tell him – how you love the way he’s making you feel right now, how you love the way he’s lapping up your juices right now, how you love the way his fingers are moving inside you right now – but you’re rendered speechless again, your breath caught deep in your throat. He knows this is what you want. He knows without asking. He can see it on your face that you’re enjoying it. He doesn’t want to stop, not until you’re ready for him to stop. He starts to suck softly on your clit, still slowly moving his fingers in and out of you, knowing how he’s making you feel because your hand has now started to grip his hair. He can feel you tighten and start to tremble with pleasure. He sees you adjusting yourself against his drums – those drums he will never look at the same again – as you get closer to reaching your climax. His eyes never leave yours. Your moaning and breathing both increase, and he doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you until you finish. Even then, he doesn’t want to stop. He meant it when he said that he loves the way you taste, so even when you finished, he licked up your slit one more time before he stood up and held out his hands for you to grab.

He pulls you up from his drum kit and draws you in for a kiss and you can taste yourself on his lips. He holds you close to him as he turns, walking you back toward the wall. He kicks a guitar out of the way – you don’t know if it’s Brian’s or John’s, nor do you even care – because it was in the way. He leans against the wall with one hand, still kissing you, still dancing his tongue around yours in your mouth, still exuding that passion. Your hands rest against his chest as you break the kiss and look up at him. Your eyes never leave each other. He pulls one of your legs up and wraps it around his waist, leaving your other foot on the ground before crouching down and pushing himself into you as he grabs your ass and hoists you up. You stayed there, pinned between him and the wall, as he thrust himself hard, but slowly, into you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his hair, staring deeply into each other’s eyes as you groaned in lockstep with each other, breathing heavy, even starting to sweat at the same time. Still, no words needed to be spoken. You felt everything – you felt his cock hitting your g-spot at the perfect angle and beat, the way his fingers dig into you with every lunge he makes. He feels everything too – every single piece of hair that your hands were grabbing, every grip your walls made around his cock, every single moan that came from your mouth. You were ready. He was ready. And neither one of you could hold out any longer. Wave after wave of pleasure flowed through your entire bodies, and you pulled his head into yours so you could kiss him as you shared your orgasms. You feel every single drop of his cum burst inside of you. You held his kiss, you didn’t want to let it go, and he didn’t want to let you go either. But you had to let go. You couldn’t stay like this forever.

He pulled himself out of you, slowly, and lowered your leg back down. “You are breathtaking, Y/N,” he whispers. “Where have you been all my life?”

You can’t resist making a joke. You want to resist but you can’t. “Well, for almost half of it I wasn’t even born yet,” you say with a cheeky grin, making him laugh and kiss you again. “Stay with me tonight,” you tell him. It wasn’t a question.

He nods and smiles. “I’d like that,” he whispers.

As you lay in bed, your head on his chest and his arm around you, you didn’t allow yourself to overthink all of this. You didn’t want to analyze anything, you didn’t want to worry about anything. You just wanted to lay there and soak everything in and savor this while you could. You love this, but you hate it all the same, but before your brain delves too deep into the catastrophic end to this fling with Roger that you envisioned, you divert your attention to the night you just had and fall asleep in his arms.


	5. “Maybe I like spoiled brats.”

Things were quiet today at the studio. You knew they would be. The guys had some dinner with the label big wigs to go to later tonight, so they used that as their excuse to take the day off. And if they weren’t going to be there, then no one else had to be there, except for you. “Who else will answer the phone?” your boss asked when you asked him if you had to come in today. Sometimes you didn’t mind being the only female that worked here but other times it was annoying because it seemed like your sole purpose in being there was to be some kind of maternal presence, making sure the kids were fed and that all their problems were solved.

Roger left your place this morning, quietly so he wouldn’t wake you up. He did leave you a note, even drew a little strawberry by his name, which made you giggle. You were feeling a bit empty, though. It’s now been one month and 4 days since you first hooked up – one month and 10 days since you met him, if you’re keeping count – and this is the first day since then that you hadn’t heard his voice, and it was killing you. And it pissed you off that it was killing you because it meant that you were running head first into that brick wall called “feelings,” perhaps having already hit it.

You kicked your legs up on the desk, chewing your gum and tapping your pen to the beat of the music playing on the radio, trying not to fall asleep. The phone rang one time in the 7 hours you’ve been here so far, and that was 20 minutes ago and no one was even on the line when you answered. You finished the book you brought with you an hour ago, and if you paced around the floor any more than you already had you’d wear it out. You leaned back in the chair to look at the clock on the wall, looking at it upside down, relieved that you only had to sit here for another 30 minutes. While you were in your awkward position, you hear the door fly open and quickly flip yourself back upright, making yourself lightheaded in the process. Roger is standing there, laughing heartedly as you try to keep your bearings straight. “You alright?” he asks, still laughing, rushing over to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.   
  
“Why do you always do that?” you laugh. “You can never just make a normal entrance.”   
  
“Because you’re cute when you get startled,” he chuckles. You roll your eyes at him as he takes a seat on your desk. “Busy day?” he asks with a great amount of sarcasm.   
  
“Oh yeah, real busy,” you reply, matching his sarcasm level. “I chewed through an entire pack of gum, read War and Peace, knitted a blanket, composed a symphony and answered the phone one time.”   
  
“What’s your plan for tonight?” he asked, knowing damn good and well you had nothing planned. When you raised your eyebrow at him, he smirked. “Good, you can come with me to this ridiculous dinner.” You looked at him, puzzled, because this wasn’t just some seedy bar with a dark corner to sit in, or the Santa Monica Pier where you blended with the crowd. This was an actual thing, with people you both knew, and… “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” he nudged you. “If you don’t come I’ll be the only one without a date and I’ll look stupid.”   
  
“Don’t you think people will…” you started to voice your concern, but he held his hand up to stop you.   
  
“I don’t care what people will say or think,” he assured you. “I hear one of these execs has a wife younger than you anyway so…” He looks at you and sees your concern. “What’s wrong?”   
  
“Nothing,” you whisper with a smile before clearing your throat. “What time do we leave?”   
  
He starts beaming with joy. “Pick you up at 6.” He jumps up from the desk and looks down at you. “Got anymore gum?”   
  
You shake your head no. “Last piece,” you say as your point to your mouth.   
  
He leans down and gets close to your face. “Give me that one, then.” You giggle and push him back, but he still leans in and gives you a deep, tongued kiss, while the both of you are still laughing, still managing to get your gum. “Thanks,” he says, big grin on his face as he chews the gum loudly to annoy you.

“That’s disgusting, Roger,” you tell him, trying to act like your grossed out, but you’re still laughing. He winks at you and gives you a quick peck and walks out the door.   
  
—   
You’re sitting in your living room getting anxious. After deciding on wearing your black cocktail dress, dazzled up with a few quaint pieces of jewelry, you rushed to finish getting ready, only to be left alone with the million thoughts running rampant in your head for a good half an hour. It felt silly being so nervous – you knew every single inch of his body, and he yours, for God’s sake – but here you were, sitting in the quiet, shaking with nerves. So when the knock on your door came at exactly 5:57, you were startled, just like you always were when he’d show up. You wanted to rush to the door, but you didn’t want to seem too eager, so you calmed yourself down, grabbed your clutch and walked to the door.   
  
There he was, standing in front of you, dressed in a blazer and tie, wearing those damn sunglasses, with a huge smile on his face, leaning on the door frame, looking absolutely gorgeous. “Hey there,” he greeted you. “I’m here for Y/N. Is she here?” he said before grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you close. “If she’s not, you’re pretty, so I guess you’ll do.”   
  
“Shut up,” you giggled as you playfully hit his shoulder and walked out of the door, pushing him back as you closed the door. “Let’s go.” You turned to lock it, and his hands didn’t leave your hips. You slid his hands away as you turned back around. “None of this funny business,” you said jokingly. “I’m a respectable lady.”   
  
“For now,” he said as he lowered his sunglasses and gave you a wink. “I happen to know you have no problem abandoning that respectability.” He holds out his arm for you and walks you outside where you’re greeted by a shiny black limo with the driver standing outside waiting to open the door. “Too much?” he laughed when he saw your face. “It is. But everyone’s waiting so let’s go get this over with so we can finish this night properly.”   
  
“You clean up nicely,” Freddie tells you as you climb in and sit next to him. “Stunning,” he says with a smile and pat on your leg.   
  
“This is Y/N,” Brian says to the lady sitting next to him before turning to you. “This is my wife.”   
  
You shake hands and she smiles. “I’m not used to any of this mess either,” she says with a slight giggle.   
  
The ride to the restaurant was pleasant, mostly spent listening to the guys cracking jokes about each other – especially John, who wasn’t there to defend himself – a completely different vibe than you ever got from them in the studio where they were more business than pleasure. It relaxed you, the lack of tension, and your nerves flew out the window, until the car arrived at the restaurant. Roger got out first, holding his hand out for you to grab as you followed. He could sense your nervousness, especially since you were fidgeting as you walked inside. “Calm down, numpty,” he whispered in your ear. “You’re fine.” You look up at him and he’s giving you a comforting smile, and you give him a thankful one in return.   
  
Dinner was going smoothly, mainly because no one was trying to draw you into a table-wide conversation. Roger would talk to you, of course, and so would the wife of the label executive he told you about earlier in the day. She was a little older then you, not younger like he thought, so it was easy to find common ground.   
  
When he wasn’t eating, Roger kept his hand on your lap, rubbing his thumb on your thigh to keep you relaxed. But when you were waiting for the dessert, he started to move his hand closer and closer to the area between your legs, taunting you and acting like nothing was going on. You were doing a great job keeping your composure, but you were starting to feel yourself shifting in your seat, trying to make him stop. Of course, he didn’t. He was enjoying making you squirm. His hand moved down to your knee before slowly making its way up your dress to your inner thigh, all while you were trying to talk to the exec’s wife sitting across the table from you and while he was talking to John who was sitting next to him. You squeeze your legs together, trapping his hand there, but he still wiggles one of his fingers free, making it graze against your box. You started to softly choke, as did he when he realized you weren’t wearing anything to cover yourself down there. You hurried and grabbed your glass of water to take a sip, smirking as you did, pleased with yourself that you finally startled him. “Excuse yourself,” he whispered in your ear, forcefully. “Now.”   
  
You put your glass down and pat your mouth with your napkin. “Excuse me,” you told the wife as you scoot your chair back. You stand up and put a hand on Roger’s shoulder before walking away.   
  
A few minutes later he joins you in the small hallway that leads to the restrooms with a sneaky grin on his face. “Anyone in there?” he asks as he points to the ladies room door. You shake your head no and bite your bottom lip as he grabs your arm and rushes inside, locking the door behind him. He immediately grabs you and starts savagely kissing you, picking you up and putting you on the counter. “Still a naughty little minx,” he growls as he unhooks his pants and taking his already rock-hard cock out through the opening. You kick your shoes off and rest your heels on the counter where you’re sitting and spread your legs, calling him close to you with your finger before reaching out and grabbing his tie, pulling him close to you. When he reaches you, he doesn’t waste any time getting started, pushing himself inside of you with a force you didn’t suspect. “Need you to be quiet,” he gruntingly whispered in your ear as he darted himself in and out of you rather quickly.   
  
You wrapped one arm around his neck, still holding his tie in the other and nibbled on his ear. It always drove him crazy when you did that. “Need you to fuck me,” you whispered back. Right now, all you were worried about was pleasing him like he had done for you so many times before. Yes, this was amazing and yes, you were getting great pleasure from it, but you knew there was no time to waste making sure you were fully satisfied. He moved his head back to look into your eyes as he raged inside of you before you pulled his tie and drew him into a kiss. “You like feeling me wrapped around your cock, don’t you?” you asked in a raspy whisper as his face was close to yours. He was looking at you pleadingly, and you can tell he was already almost finished. “Cum for me, Roger,” you whispered in his ear. That’s all it took. “I love the way you feel inside me,” you whispered with a tug on his earlobe, talking him through his orgasm.   
  
“You fucking own me, Y/N,” he quietly grunted after he finished. He gazes deep into your eyes as he starts to laugh, keeping it as quiet as he can. “You’re making me absolutely mad,” he whispers through his laugh as he leans in to kiss you. “And we’ve made a fucking mess.” He quickly reaches for some paper towels to wipe everything up.   
  
“Oops,” you giggle when there’s a knock at the door. “Be out in a minute!” you yell before climbing off of the counter. “Now how are we gonna do this?” you whisper to Roger, still giggling.   
  
As he finishes tucking his shirt in and making sure he looks presentable, he smiles a toothy grin and walks to the door. “Like this,” he says before holding the doorknob, much to your shock. He opens the door and sees an older lady standing there, who is absolutely horrified when she sees the two of you walking out holding hands. “Hello, ma’am,” he chirps as he passes her, acting completely oblivious to anything out of the ordinary. You giggle as the two of you walk back to the table as if nothing happened.   
  
“Welcome back,” John smirks at the two of you when you sit down. “We were wondering if you got lost,” he chuckles before leaning to whisper something in Roger’s ear, causing him to blush a little bit.   
  
When it came time to leave, everyone stood outside on the sidewalk saying their goodbyes and you piled back into the limo with everyone who rode there together. Roger took a minute getting in before the driver closed the door and pulled away. Brian and Chrissie were dropped off first, followed by Freddie, leaving you and Roger alone.   
  
“Hope you didn’t think this night was over,” he told you as the door closed after dropping Freddie off. “I’m still not done with you,” he smirked as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You looked out of the window, not knowing where you were going. “I’m not bringing you home,” he told you. “Not tonight.” You gave him a smile – a big smile. “You’re all mine until tomorrow at least.” You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. “I can’t wait to get out of this car,” he grunts in your ear as you’re straddled on his lap. “So many things I want to do to you right now.”

“Can he hear us?” You point back to the direction of the driver. Roger shrugs and smirks. “Does it matter?” He shakes his head no, still smirking.

He moves you off his lap and pushes you to lean against the side of the limo. “Open,” he commands, pointing down to your legs. “I’m hungry.” You spread your legs open, and he watches your eyes as he licks his lips and moves down between your legs. You giggle and bite on your thumb as you watch him move down.

He flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue then stops. You can hear him giggle too. “Stop being such a fucking tease,” you yell through your own giggles. “You don’t have much time!” He moved quickly, licking, sucking, kissing, taking as much of you in his mouth as he could. “Good boy,” you chuckled, grabbing a handful of his hair and rocking your hips.

You started to moan, making an effort to keep it quiet, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled his mouth away from you and quickly moved two fingers inside. “I know you can be louder than that,” he says.

“Then make me,” you groan as he rams his fingers in and out of you while sucking and licking all over your pussy. “Suck my clit, Roger,” you tell him through bated breath. “You always make me cum when you do that.” He happily obliged, doing exactly what you told him to do. “Fingers,” you mumble, unable to form a complete sentence. “Harder.” He again did as he was told. “That. Just like that. Don’t stop doing that.”

He moves his head back again so he can get a better look at you as you start to cum, smirking devilishly at what he’s doing. “Dirty girl,” he chuckles. “Such a dirty girl.” You grab his hand and push his fingers inside, holding his hand tightly and still as you start to come. “That’s right,” he growls, still chuckling. “Cum for me.”

“My God,” you sigh, your breathing short, still giggling. “That was good.” You reach your hands down and pull him up to you, both smiling uncontrollably, and draw him into a kiss.

He started to kiss and nibble on your neck, making you giggle and take deep but soft breaths. He pulled away quickly, looking out of the window. “Here we are,” he mumbled as the limo pulled into a long driveway. “Hope you don’t mind,” he tells you. “Thought we could use a change of scenery.”   
  
When you walk inside, you take a look around at this “change of scenery,” a quaint house – not too big, not too small – taking in the surroundings as you nose around. “This place yours?” you ask as you look outside though the window.   
  
“For now, yeah,” he says as he takes off his jacket and throws it on a chair at the kitchen table. “I might buy it. Haven’t decided.” He walks up behind you and puts his hands on your hips. “Nice pool, isn’t it?” He leaned down and gave you a sweet kiss on the top of your head.   
  
You turn around to face him. “Yeah, it is,” you smile. “Too bad I didn’t know we were coming here. I could have brought my suit.” You move away and walk to the counter, leaning on it with one hand to you can take off your shoes. “I hate wearing heels. They always make my feet hurt,” you groan as you massage the bottom of your foot.   
  
He walks over to you and grabs your arm, walking you over to the sofa and holding his hand out, inviting you to sit down. He sits next to you and waves his hands for you to rest your feet on his lap. “Don’t tell the guys I’m doing this,” he jokes. “It’ll ruin my reputation.” He starts to gently rub your feet, making them instantly feel worlds better.   
  
“Your secret is safe with me,” you tell him as the two of you exchange soft smiles. “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking better of you.” You start to chuckle as he pretends to be offended. “What? I don’t want anyone knowing you’re actually a nice guy!” You make him somewhat perplexed with that statement – you can see it all over his face – so you attempt to do your best to explain. “I thought you’d turn out to be an asshole,” you giggle. “Color me surprised when you actually weren’t one,” you say with a shrug, but he still doesn’t understand what you mean. “I thought the day after that first time you’d treat me like garbage,” you say with your tone turning less humored and more serious.   
  
He started to snigger. “And here I am, a month later, rubbing your feet.” You lean your elbow on the back of the sofa and rest your head in your hand. “Honestly, if you were terrible in bed I probably would have,” he laughed before moving to meet his face with yours. “But you’re not,” he said before giving you a peck on the lips, “and I happen to like you, so I’m going to keep you for as long as I can.” He gives you another quick peck and stands up, starting to take off his tie and unbutton his shirt. “Let’s go swimming,” he tells you with a grin.

You stay where you are on the sofa, watching him take off his shirt and tie, enjoying the show. He throws his shirt at you before walking to the back to get some towels. You hurry and take off your dress and bra and put his shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned. He walks back in, wrapped in a towel at his waist and carrying another, and he grins when he sees you standing there in his shirt. “Well?” you say. “Don’t just stand there,” you giggle as you turn and walk to the back door that leads to the pool. “Hope you don’t have nosy neighbors.” You walk out as he slowly follows, never taking his eyes off you, or letting the grin leave his face. You step down the first few steps into the pool and turn to see where he is. “Are you coming or not?” you ask as you take off the shirt.

“Not yet,” he snickers. “But I will be later.” He takes the towel off and follows you into the water, grabbing you from behind, pulling you close and turning you to face him.

“Excuse me, sir,” you say as you tap him on his mouth. “I came here to swim. Not be accosted.” You giggle as you duck yourself under the water and swim to the other side and poke your head out.

He goes under the water and swims to you, playfully pinching you when he gets close, before popping up. “Why do you toy with me so?” he chuckles as he gives you a kiss, holding your face in his palm.

“Because it’s fun,” you giggle. “And you deserve it.”

“Deserve it?” he asked, laughing. “Why do I deserve it?”

“For every single time you toyed with me.”

“Are you keeping a list or something?” he asked as he started to jokingly poke you.

“That time, I think it was a Wednesday, when you were in the studio licking your lips while staring at me behind the glass, smirking because you knew exactly what you were doing to me.” You hurried and moved away from him. “Or that time when you, John and I went to that bar for a few drinks? When you kept staring at me with those damn eyes, smirking because you knew exactly what you were doing to me.” He moved closer to you, pinning you against the side of the pool, looking down at you with that goddamn irresistible smile of his. “I’ll even go back to when I was…” You stopped and started giggling. “When I was 13.” You rest your elbows on the side of the pool, lifting yourself up slightly and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you with your legs.

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips into a tight smile. “How can you possibly blame me for something that happened in…?” He started to do the math in his head and once it dawned on him what year it was when you were 13, he started to shake his head and rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “Wow.” That’s all he could say.

“1975, my very first concert. My dad took me and somehow managed to get us on the front row.” You raise an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Do you have any idea how bad my hormones were raging? It was just cruel, Roger.”

He put his hands down on the side next to your elbows and playfully snarled. “I’m not sorry for any of it,” he growled, leaning down to nibble on your neck and collarbone, making you laugh loudly. “Is that why you didn’t wear panties tonight?” he asked. “To toy with me?”

“Did it work?” you titter. “I think it worked.” He licked his lips and smiled, shaking his head yes, and leaned in to give you a deep, long kiss before softly kissing his way from your lips to your neck.

“Mmm hmm,” he hummed, still kissing your neck, your legs still wrapped around him, gripping him tighter. He raises his head so his eyes can meet yours. “I like this,” he tells you with a soft grin. “Being here with you. Being anywhere with you.” He moves a hand to your hair. “Just being with you,” he whispers.

“Me too,” you whisper back, flashing a troubled smile, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. “What happens next?” you ask, not sure if you want to know the answer. “After you’re done here. What happens?”

“Whatever we want,” he tells you with a smile. “We aren’t constrained…”

You move your legs that are wrapped around him and hastily swim away, climb out of the pool and wrap yourself in a towel. “Don’t tell me things you think I want to hear, Roger,” you snap. He follows you out of the pool, quickly, and grabs a towel before grabbing you. “Tell me the truth, not some lie to keep me from…”

He pulls you into a kiss, cutting you off from finishing your statement. “How many times do I have to tell you?” he quietly asks. “How many times do I have to tell you that you…”

“That I’m special? That I’m different from all the others? That I actually mean something?” you spew out as you roll your eyes. “I’m not stupid, Roger. I know how this goes.” He holds your arms as you try to push yourself away. “You tell me the things you think I want to hear, keep living this fantasy with me, but then things will happen and I’ll never see you again after you leave.”

“No, that’s not…”

“That’s exactly how it will happen. You may not want it to, but that’s what will happen.”

He starts to laugh and pulls you in for a hug that you don’t want to be in, but he forces you into it anyway. “If you think you already know what’s going to happen, why did you ask me?” He holds your head against his chest, cupping the side of your head in his palm. “If I were 10 years younger, then your words would be true, but I’m done being that person. I’ve done it enough.” His laughing fades away, but he still holds you close. “One day I’m going to make you realize that I’m not lying to you.” Your body relaxes, all tension evaporating, and you realize that you’re being ridiculous. “Come on,” he tells you, letting go of his hug and grabbing your hand and walking to the house. “I have rocky road ice cream in the freezer and that show on the telly you like will be coming on soon.”

And just like that, everything was okay. He remembered your favorite ice cream, he gives the best hugs, and that damn smile. “Roger?” you call, getting his attention, making him stop and turn to you. “When did I tell you that I like rocky road?”

He started to laugh. “You didn’t. I just noticed every time you have ice cream it’s rocky road.” He started walking again, still holding your hand.

“Roger?” you call him again. He stops walking, again, and sits on the chair, pulling you down to sit on his lap. “What really happens next?” Your tone is serious, and he takes the hint that it’s time to be straightforward.

After taking a deep breath, he exhales and wraps his arms around you. “Munich. I have to go to Munich to finish this album.” You nod your head, looking away. “And then the first single will be released, so there’s going to be promotional things to do.” You don’t turn your head back to him as he holds you tighter. “Some videos between all of that. Then a tour…” His voice starts to trail off. You look at him and force a smile, appreciative of the fact that he’s telling you the truth and not some glorified bullshit about how he won’t forget about you. “I’ll be busy, but I will always make time to…” He sees the look in your eyes and his heart starts to sink. “I will always make time for you.” You roll your eyes and start to make a snippy remark, but he hurries and kisses you before you can. “I told you before, I’m not giving you up any time soon, and I mean it.” You turn your head away again, but this time he forces your head to turn back. “Y/N, why is it so hard for you to accept the fact that I am crazy about you?” You open you mouth to speak, but he isn’t done. “I know you know your worth, so it’s not because you don’t think you’re good enough. And I know it’s not because…”

“Because what in the hell can I offer you? I’m just starting my life. I just finished high school three years ago. I don’t even know my own ass from a hole in the ground sometimes. I’m a whiny, spoiled brat most of the time. Before you showed up, the biggest issue I’ve ever had to deal with was learning how to not blow my entire paycheck on clothes so I could eat.” You’re getting annoyed because he’s looking at you with this amused look and you aren’t finding any of this funny, at all. “This isn’t funny, Roger!” you yell. “I can’t take care of myself half the time. I can’t pay my rent without mom and dad’s help. I don’t even know how to boil an egg.”

“Neither do I. We can learn how together,” he laughs. “And maybe I like spoiled brats.”

You’re still annoyed, and now you’re getting testy. “Maybe you just like spoiled brats who suck your dick good.”

“Well, I won’t lie to you, Y/N,” he chuckles, still amused. “You do suck my dick good.”

“Oh, fuck you, Roger,” you groan, trying to stand up so you can walk away dramatically, but he holds you down.

He can’t stop laughing. “You do that good, too.” He pulls you close, your back to his chest. “You’re cute when you get feisty.”

You keep trying to wiggle out of his grasp but he’s winning the battle. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation,” you fuss, trying not to let him know that you find all of this amusing as well. “Can you please be serious?”

He gives you a kiss on your shoulder, still chuckling, and you stop putting up your fight and accept defeat, so he loosens his hold on you. “Stop overthinking everything. Not everything needs a perfectly planned timeline.”

“I’m not asking for a timeline,” you groan. “You can afford to do things on a whim. I can’t.”

“If this is about money, I’ve got plenty of that,” he tells you, not bragging – he’s trying to calm your nerves. “I can help you…”

“No!” you yell, but quickly tone it down. “Not money, not that.” You turn your body on his lap and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I’m trying to find my place in life. You know yours. I don’t know mine.”

He gives you a soft smile and an equally soft kiss. “Maybe your place is with me.”

“I don’t belong in your world, Roger,” you sigh. “Why don’t you understand that?” He doesn’t understand. He’s looking at you trying to understand why you think that, but he can’t figure it out. “You were meant for the life you have. I’m still trying to figure out what mine is supposed to be.”

“Maybe you’re supposed to be in mine,” he whispers.

You don’t know why, but you’re starting to get frustrated again because it feels like he’s not listening to what you’re saying. You know he’s hearing you, but you don’t think he’s really listening. “We’ve known each other for a month. How can you possibly know…”

He starts to chuckle. “Y/N, I knew almost immediately after meeting you that you were someone special.” You’re giving him a blank stare, and he knows you don’t believe him. He still doesn’t understand why you won’t believe anything he’s telling you. “Is it my profession that’s making this difficult or the age difference?”

“Both,” you whisper. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve met a ton of guys like you.” He raises an eyebrow and starts to smirk. “No, I didn’t have sex with them…” You start to giggle. “With all of them,” you correct yourself. “And one thing I learned right away was that you older guys turn stupid when a younger girl looks your way.”

“Oh, is that so?” he starts to laugh. “Like you young girls don’t get excited by us old guys.” He starts to tickle you and nibble on your neck, making you tear up with laughter. He stops, and looks into your eyes. “Do I treat you like those other old blokes?”

Your face turns serious and you hold a palm to his cheek. “No,” you whisper. “And that’s what scares me.”

“I told you last night I’m scared too,” he says. “And it’s because you don’t treat me like those other young girls.” You both started to laugh. “There’s only been a couple of them, by the way. This isn’t a habit of mine.” You roll your eyes, humored by his nervous need to explain himself and stand up, not saying a word and start to walk inside. He’s starts laughing again. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Where are you going?”

“Shower,” you tell him, yelling from over your shoulder. When you get to the door, turn around and look at him. You drop your towel, standing there naked. “If you’re not there in 3 minutes I’m locking the door and you can’t join me.” You smirk as you turn back and walk in, and he shakes his head as he jumps up to run after you. 


	6. “It’s not like I’m asking you to dinner.”

Sunday. Finally. A day off. And you have tomorrow off, too, since your boss was kind enough to hire another girl to sit in and answer the phones a few days a week to help out. When Roger brought you home this morning he was headed off with the rest of the guys to go do some interviews so you weren’t expecting to hear from him anytime soon. You’re trying your best not to replay the conversation you had with him last night, but it was stuck on endless repeat in your brain. _What did he mean – “I’m not giving you up any time soon,”_ you keep thinking. _This is ridiculous. He’s leaving, he’ll be in Munich, then touring… Stop it, Y/N._ But you can’t stop. _He’s right. You overanalyze everything. This is just fun and he’ll move on when he leaves._

You desperately need a distraction, so you decide to start rearranging your albums again, this time by sleeve cover instead of alphabetically. It was stupid, especially because you knew it was going to get on your nerves the first time you’d go to look for one, but it got your mind off of him. You’re concentrating hard on the task you’ve given yourself when the phone rings.

“Hello?”

“I’m in the mood for Italian food. What’s the best place in this god awful city for Italian food?” It’s Roger, and you can’t help the massive smile that’s formed on your face.

“Dan Tana’s,” you tell him. “But they don’t open until dinner time.” You hear cars rushing by and horns blowing in the background. “Where are you? It’s so loud.”

He starts to chuckle. “I’m on some payphone outside. Dan Tana’s, you said?”

“Yeah, but they don’t open until dinner time and…”

He cuts you off. “Can you be ready for 5?”

“You’re talking to me?” you ask.

He’s laughing at your awkwardness. “Yes, you. I’ll pick you up at 5:00.” He doesn’t wait for an answer and he hangs up the phone.

You start to laugh at his sheer audacity. Part of you wants to be difficult and tell him you’re not going when he shows up, but you know you won’t do that. It’s only noon, but you rush to your closet to find what you’re going to wear.

The hours eventually passed, and you did your makeup three times, changed your clothes four times before finally deciding on your blue dress. You find yourself in the same situation as yesterday evening before he picked you up for that dinner with everyone else – nervous as hell, sitting in your living room, waiting for Roger to knock on the door. And when he did, you had to compose yourself again and not run to the door like you wanted to. And when you open the door, there he is again, wearing a tie – no blazer this time – and those sunglasses. _God, do we really need to go to dinner?_ you groan to yourself, wanting to make him ravish you right there in the doorway.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets you, with a toothy smile and a kiss on your cheek. He holds his arm out for you to hook yours into. “Ready to go?” You smile and grab your purse and head out the door. “Thought I’d take you this Italian place I heard about,” he jokes as he walks you to the car.

You hear the people whisper and feel them staring as the two of you are walking inside the restaurant, trying your hardest to ignore them, but it’s hard to do. Roger, on the other hand, isn’t paying them any attention, instead focusing his attention on you and making sure you’re guided through the crowd waiting to get in as effortless as possible. The restaurant host immediately recognizes him and hurries the two of you to a table, far in the back away from as many people as possible, but you still feel people looking at you. “Ignore them,” he whispers, leaning over the table and taking your hand in his. “It’s just the two of us, no one else,” he says as he’s giving you a comforting grin. He glances down at the menu. “What’s good here?”

“I always get the veal parmesan,” you tell him with a chuckle. “Not that I come here a lot. That’s what I always get at Italian restaurants.”

He starts to laugh. “Not the adventurous type?”

“It’s my favorite,” you shrug. He’s still holding your hand as he looks over the menu, and you sit like that, in silence, watching him, and you can’t stop smiling. He glances up and you and smiles back before going back to the menu. You start to giggle at his deep concentration before realizing he probably doesn’t know what he’s reading and pull the menu away from him. “Pasta, seafood, meat or veggies?” you ask with a giggle.

“Meat,” he playfully growls. “Like a real man.” You roll your eyes and point to the menu section with the meat selections as you push it back to him and he smirks. “I have no idea what any of this is.” He points down. “What’s this?”

“Liver,” you tell him, laughing at his disgusted reaction. When he points to the next one, you giggle. “That’s veal parmesean.” He nods and closes the menu and gives you an impressed look. “I spent a semester in Italy when I was in college so I learned the cuisine. Studied that more than what I was actually there to study.”

He listened to you intently as you talked over dinner. For some reason you were chattier than usual, probably doing it because people kept staring and you were trying to distract yourself. It didn’t matter to him – he loved hearing you talk. After the waiter took your plates, he inched his hand to yours so he could hold it again, and as soon as he grabbed it, you were rendered speechless for some reason. Apparently he was too, because neither one of you spoke, sitting there and smiling at each other instead, until the waiter brought your coffee. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” he says, softly, looking deep into your eyes. “Because if I didn’t, I just want you to know that you are absolutely beautiful.” You smile and he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “And not just tonight. Always.”

You’re smiling as you melt inside, a different feeling than you usually get when you see him. It’s not that sexual desire that almost burns. It’s a flutter, a calmness, a… _What is he_ doing _to me?_ you ask yourself. Everyone else disappeared. It’s just the two of you, no one else, just like he said earlier. You lean over the table to get closer to him. “Come here,” you whisper, and he leans over to meet you and gives you a soft, slow peck, your eyes closing as you feel the warmth of his lips on yours. The moment is interrupted when the waiter brings the bill, snapping you both back to reality.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says as he hands the waiter the payment, standing up and holding out his hand for you. You walk out holding hands, this time not caring that people see you with him, ignoring the whispers and quiet gawking everyone is doing. It’s just the two of you, no one else, and you’re floating.

He’s driving around, not sure where he wants to go next, but he does know he doesn’t want to take you home – not yet. The conversation is flowing so smoothly, and you’re both enjoying the evening and the company so much you don’t want it to end. “Turn here,” you tell him at one point, so he listens to you, knowing you can navigate this place much better than he can. A few minutes later, you tell him to pull over, and excitedly jump out of the car, waving for him to join you. Shaking his head and chuckling, he gets out and walks over to you. “Come on,” you smile and grab his hand, pulling him along as you walk out to a view of the city below. “Just in time,” you murmur as he starts to take in the view. “Haven’t been up here in a while. My favorite place to watch the sunset.” He draws you in from behind, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. He’s done this so many times before, and your insides flitter every single time. As you stand there, wrapped in him, you have no cares in the world. You’re not overthinking things for a change. You’re not questioning his motives or even worrying about what the future will bring. You’re in this moment, and you finally understand why he was always telling you to stop worrying about tomorrow, or the next month, or the next year. Now – that’s what it was all about. Now, the only time you can control, and this is exactly where you want to be.

“Y/N?” he says as he turns you to face him. The sun has just about disappeared from the sky, but there’s still a slight glow that’s making his eyes look even more enchanting than normal. You look at him and smile, his face telling you he has something he wants to say. “I… uhh…Thanks… for sharing this with me…” His words are stumbling a little, and for the first time since you’ve known him, he seems a bit nervous. He runs the back of his hand on your cheek, smiling and piercing your eyes with his. Your heart is beating so fast you can hardly catch your breath, and you sense he’s having a harder than usual time breathing as his smile fades and his expression turns serious. He opens his mouth and takes a breath like he’s about to say something else, but nothing comes out. He slowly leans down, and you can feel his breath on your cheek as your eyes flutter, then close as his lips meet yours. His hands slide down your arms before resting on your hips, drawing you in closer as your arms wrap around his neck, and the entire world starts to melt away. You slowly pull back, your hands resting on the nape of his neck, and you slowly open your eyes. He tries to say something again, but the words don’t come out.

All you can do is smile, finding this nervousness of his endearing. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. “Why are you so tense?” you ask him. “Your whole body is tight.” You look up at him, your chin on his chest and and you start to rub his back.

He kisses your forehead and smiles. “Maybe being around you is stressful,” he chuckles, and you push yourself away, pretending to be upset and offended.

“I don’t know why I still like you, knowing you’re an asshole,” you laugh as he pulls you back close, leaning down so his nose touches yours.

“Oh, you _like_ me?” he grunts sarcastically. “I happen to L…” He quickly stops himself and smiles. “I happen to like you, too.” He kisses your forehead again and pushes your head to rest on his chest. You can hear his heart beating, and you start to giggle again. “Stop being cute,” he laughs. “I’m trying to relax and enjoy the view.”

You look up at him again, giving him an adoring look and smirk. “My view is quite nice to look at.” He rolls his eyes and laughs, pulling you in even tighter. Just as you were about to speak, a car pulls up and four teenagers crawl out. “Ugh,” you groan. “It was nice while it lasted.” You slowly pull apart from each other and watch as these jackasses who interrupted your moment start to walk into view.

“Brownies,” he blurts out, out of nowhere. “You brought those brownie things to the studio the other day. Those were good.” You look at him, humored with confusion “I want some.”

“I don’t know where to buy brownies at 8:00 on a Sunday night,” you laugh. “I made those anyway.”

He grabs your hand and starts walking to the car. “Then let’s go so you can make me some.” He’s serious and you’re still laughing.

“I can’t just make them, Roger,” you laugh. “I need the mix and…”

“Well let’s go find the mix,” he says, hurrying and opening the car door and shoving you in. “What?” he asks, starting to laugh at himself when he gets in the car and puts the keys in the ignition.

“The stores are closed,” you tell him.

“Damn,” he chuckles. “Well… Where to next?”

“I don’t know,” you giggle. “You’re the one who invited me out tonight.” He nods and starts the car. “So where are we going now?” He shrugs and pulls out, not knowing which way to turn on the road and looks at you for guidance. “I don’t know where we’re going so I can’t tell you where to go.”

“My place?” he asks, not sure of anywhere else to go. You point in the direction he needs to turn and he starts to drive. He grabs your hand again, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss it, and you look over at him and smile. You’ve been smiling since the second you opened the door when he picked you up, and you don’t feel like you’ll ever stop smiling again. “Tell me, what does a girl from [your hometown] want out of life? I mean, _really_ want out of life?”

You sigh and lean your head back on the seat and gaze out of the window. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be happy,” you say quietly. “Not that I’m not a happy person or that I’m not happy where I am.” You turn your head and look at him. “I just want to be able to take my final breath, whenever it may be, and know that I’ve lived a happy life.”

“Wow,” he says, impressed by the maturity of your answer. “Usually people will say they want the big house, fancy cars, loads of money…”

“None of that matters to me,” you say, cutting him off. “So many of these people in these obnoxious houses have all of that, but they’re miserable.” You turn your body in the seat so you’re facing him, his hand still holding yours. “It’s not always about material things, you know? I mean, yeah, they’re nice, but it’s about the people you surround yourself with.”

He starts to laugh, loud and heartedly. “I think you’re the only person out here who feels that way.” He stops laughing and starts to grin. “You’re too good for these people.” He raises your hand so he can kiss it again, only this time he holds it there for the rest of the ride to his place so he can keep giving it random kisses.

He starts to loosen his tie as you walk inside and head to the living room. “Do you want to change?” he asks. “Get more comfortable?” You follow him back to his bedroom and he pulls out some sweatpants and a t-shirt. His eyes suddenly light up, having an idea pop into his head. “Change,” he says as he heads out the room. “I’ll be right back!” He rushes out, not saying a word about where he’s running off too.

After changing your clothes you sneak back into the living room, thinking you’re going to catch him doing whatever he rushed off to do, but you don’t see him. You don’t hear him anywhere, so you start to wander around the house trying to find him. You should know better by now than to put yourself in a position where he can scare you, but you forget about every other day before this one. When he sneaks up behind you and grabs you, you scream and slap him. “Dammit, Roger!” you yell and he’s in complete hysterics. It only takes a second for you join him in the laughter. “Stop doing that!”

“Never,” he laughs. You roll your eyes and slap him again. He grabs your hand and walks you to the kitchen where he points at a box of brownie mix on the counter with a proud look on his face. “Got it from my neighbor,” he chuckles. “Nice old lady.”

“Really?” you ask with a laugh. “You want me to make brownies?” He looks at you and pokes his bottom lip out in an over exaggerated pout that makes you giggle. You roll your eyes, smiling again, and walk to the refrigerator. “Well? Get me a pan. You have one of those?”

He gives you a big smile and reaches into a bag. “She gave me one,” he laughs. “Everything’s in here but the eggs.” After you grab the eggs from the refrigerator you start to look through his cabinets, searching for a bowl to mix everything in. He walks up to you holding one and smiles. “Told you. Everything’s in the bag.”

He leans on the counter watching you mix the batter and pour it into the pan. “Do you know how to use the oven?” you joke, but he gives you a blank look. “You’re useless,” you giggle as you set the temperature yourself. “You’re quite sneaky, too,” you tell him with your back turned. “Bringing me to dinner just so you can get me back here to make you brownies. I could have done this…” You turn around to finish your statement, but you can’t, because as soon as you turn around, he plants a kiss on you and smiles. Faking an unamused expression, you stick your tongue out at him and he takes his arm from behind his back and wipes a finger full of brownie batter on your face. “You’re such a child,” you laugh as he stands there with his eyebrows raised and licks the rest of it off of his finger.

When the brownies were finished, you took them to the living room, where you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you wake up on the sofa, curled next to him, your head on his chest. He coughed, and that’s the only reason your eyes opened. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

“No,” you groaned. “I have to clean the mess in the kitchen.” When you stand up, he stands with you and turns your body in the direction of the bedroom. “That’s not where the kitchen is,” you giggle.

“Go to bed,” he tells you, standing behind you and bending down to give you a kiss on your neck. “I’ll take care of it.” You turned yourself around, ignoring what he said. “I know how to wash, Y/N,” he chuckles. “Go to bed. I’ll be there when I’m done.”

You shuffle into the bedroom and collapse on the bed, and immediately your brain started running its mental marathon. The entire night was perfect. Dinner was sweet and romantic, even with the crowded atmosphere with the gawking and whispering. The sunset seemed like it was almost special ordered just for that moment. And the rest of the night, here, at his house, had an oddly comforting domestic aura. If one of your friends had told you they were the one who experienced all of this, you’d have been nauseated by the sweetness. You were nauseated, but because, despite all of it, all you could do was think about him leaving. You hadn’t thought about it for a second the entire night, but now, being left alone with your thoughts, that’s all you can think about. When he comes to bed, he snuggles up as close as he can to you and holds you tight, entwining his hands with yours. He meant it when he said he wasn’t going to be letting you go any time soon, and this was the first time you believed him. You had convinced yourself that this whole thing was only about sex, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. Not now that the two of you spent the entire night together without it, and especially not now that you’re both laying in this bed and neither one of you are trying to rile the other up. But still, there’s a nagging feeling in your gut kept telling you that you had to let him go, and if you didn’t do it soon, it was going to hurt that much more when you did.

He dropped you off at home on his way to the studio the next morning. You stayed chipper enough on the ride, cracking jokes and laughing with him, doing a great job not exposing the thoughts that are swirling around in your head, when all you really wanted to do was cry. Which is what you did the second you closed your apartment door. You didn’t even make it further than the door before the tears started to flow. It pissed you off that you let yourself feel things for him.

You sat alone all day, wallowing in the tidal surge of emotions that overcame you, feeling like you were drowning with no life preserver in sight. When your phone rang around 5:00 you didn’t want to answer it, but you did, clearing your throat, hoping that would mask the raspiness you knew your voice would hold. “Hey, beautiful,” you hear Roger say when you answer. You can hear his smile on the other end.

“Hey, you,” you say, almost in a whisper, cringing because your voice sounds terrible. “How’s it going over there?”

“Fine,” he replies but quickly changes the subject before it can be discussed further. “Are you feeling alright? You sound hoarse.”

You feel tears starting to well up again when you hear his voice, but you fight them off. “No, I’m feeling a bit icky,” you lie, although not completely. “It just came over me all of a sudden.” You hate lying to him, but you can’t exactly sit here and tell him the truth.

“Do you need anything? I can come…”

“No!” you stop him. “No,” you lower your tone. “I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.” You’re trying so hard to fight back those tears but they’re not holding back and start to slide down your cheeks. “You don’t need to come. I don’t know if it’s contagious.”

He knows nothing is physically wrong with you. There was nothing wrong with you this morning. But he’s not going to argue. He’s going to give you the space you apparently need, and he’s not going to ask any questions, even though he has no idea why you’re blowing him off. “Alright,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until 7 or so, so call if you need anything. The new girl is here so she’ll be around to answer the phone.” After assuring him that you would, you can hear him sigh. “Last night was one of my best, Y/N. I want you to know that.”

You close your eyes, wishing he would stop being so fucking perfect, because all it’s doing is killing you slowly. “Mine too, Roger,” you whisper. “Go on, they’ll get tired of waiting for you,” you giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispers back, and you can hear his smile again. “I L… I’ll see you,” he says and hangs up the phone.

For the first time since the guys have been recording you’re dreading going into work, only because you don’t know how you’re going to react when you see him. What you do know is that if you don’t stop overthinking and worrying about this then you’re going to make yourself sick, for real this time.

When you walk in, Anna, the new girl, greets you, overly cheerful and eager to be your friend it seems. You’ve met her once before, the day your boss brought her in for the interview. She seems nice enough, but a bit too much to handle right now. You’re listening to her dribble on about her boyfriend and how much she misses him since he’s out in New York at college when Roger walks in, much earlier than expected.

“Hello, Anna,” he greets her, smirking and being the flirt that he can’t help but being. “Looking lovely today.”

She starts to giggle giddily. “Hey, Roger,” she says, her cheeks turning a bright pink. You roll your eyes and smirk, finding the whole scene amusing.

He looks over and sees you sitting at your desk and smiles. “And you, Y/N, even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

 _Oh, fuck_ , you groan to yourself. Just seeing him ruins everything, because you had your mind set on ending it with him. You were going to tell him today, maybe tonight. Or next week. Or next month. Or the day he left. You didn’t know anymore. _That damn smile…_ “Not looking so bad yourself, Mr. Taylor,” you tell him, still smirking and unable to break free from his eyes.

“Can you come help me with something?” he asks, walking closer to you, not smiling anymore. You hesitate, but follow him into the recording room anyway, closing the door behind you. He takes your hand and guides you to the sofa in the back of the room and sits down. “Let me in, Y/N,” he says softly. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

This is not the conversation you want to have right now. You weren’t ready, but you knew it had to be done. “You make me feel things I’m not supposed to be feeling and it’s _infuriating_.” You look down at him as he’s sitting there, looking at you, and he has that damn smile on his face. “Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He’s tickled by your frustration, but you don’t find it funny. You can’t deny it anymore because that night, in the studio – that was fucking _perfect_. Sunday night – that was fucking _perfect_. Every minute spent with him, even if it’s just talking about some minor thing – fucking _perfect_. But you didn’t want to feel. You didn’t want him to feel. You just wanted to have your fun and move on when he did because you didn’t want to get heartbroken. You were the heartbreaker, not the recipient of it. “I don’t want to feel anything, Roger.”

“But you do,” he says. “I didn’t want to feel anything either.”

“Well, stop feeling it,” you staunchly tell him. “You’re only going to be here another month or so and…” You look at him and sigh. “We’ve already talked about this.”

“Well things have changed,” he said with a bit of force, startling you a little. Your want to walk away, but you can’t. He’s holding on to your arm and pulling you closer to him. “I’m going to Montreux for a few weeks when I leave here to work on some solo stuff before going to Munich. Come with me.”

“W-what?” Shocked. That’s all you felt. Shock and, oddly, sick to your stomach. All you can do is sit down.

He turns his body to face you and grabs your hands. “I _need_ you to come with me.” His face was serious. This wasn’t some game anymore. This wasn’t what any of this was supposed to be. “I fucking need you…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to leave you here.” You can’t even speak. This has caught you so off guard you can’t even think straight. “I never wanted this to happen either, Y/N, but it did. And now, well, now I can’t stop it. And neither can you.” He leans over and gives you a soft kiss on your completely flabbergasted lips and smiles. “I don’t need an answer now, or even tomorrow. Will you just think about it?” You shake your head. “That’s all I ask.” He runs the back of his hand on your cheek, smiling that damn smile you can never say no to. “You said all you want out of life is to be happy. I know I can make you happy if you let me.”

You know he can. He already does make you happy. And you don’t know why you aren’t yelling at him that yes, you will go with him, that you’ll go _anywhere_ with him. You can’t say anything. You’re not even sure if you’re breathing right now. All you do know is that you’re engulfed in his stare, in his smile, and in the feeling he’s giving you with his hand on your face. He’s rendered you completely speechless again, but suddenly you start laughing, confusing the hell out of him. “This is stupid,” you giggle, confusing him even more. “I shouldn’t have to think about this.”

He starts to giggle too, albeit nervously. “No, you should. It’s not like I’m asking you to dinner.”

“Roger, I…” You can finish what you want to tell him because everyone walks in, ready to get to work, but you can’t take your eyes off of each other. He knows exactly what you were about to say, because he replied without even hearing it.

“Me too,” he whispers with a smile.


	7. “I even let her play my drums.”

It was ridiculously hot outside and it was making everyone cranky. To make matters worse, there was a power outage in the area, so the studio was rendered useless. Everyone stuck around for a little while to see if it would come back on, but it didn’t.

Roger gave you a ride home and on the way you both decided that tonight was going to be spent just the two of you again, especially now that there was something pretty important to discuss. He was going to come back around 6 or so after going home and showering, you were going to order pizza for dinner and spend the rest of the night in each other’s company. Simple and quiet - nothing extravagant, absolutely perfect.

You hurried inside so you could jump in the shower, feeling sticky and gross because of all the sweating you’ve been doing for the past 3 hours, only to be surprised when you opened the door. “Hey, Pumpkin,” you’re greeted. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“Dad?” you smile. “And Momma.” You grab them both in for a big hug. You haven’t seen them in almost year since they’ve been traveling, and now here they were, sitting in your living room with their suitcases in the corner. “I’ve missed you guys.” They never popped in unannounced but they wanted to surprise you, and surprise you they did. They were excited to tell you stories of their travels and even brought you some presents. You couldn’t exactly kick them out or ask them to go find another place to stay. They were paying your rent, after all, but you immediately regretted giving them a key.

“We’re only here for a few days,” your mom tells you. “Then we’re headed to Seattle to see your sister.” You groaned internally. Every single conversation that involved your sister as a topic always ended up with you getting nagged for not having a boyfriend, or not being married, or not wanting to procreate and give her grandchildren. “You know, your sister and Chris are…”

“Momma, please,” you sigh as you roll your eyes. “I really don’t want to hear about Sara and her breeding efforts. I talked to her the other day and she told me all about it.”

“I’m just saying!” she starts, smiling and playing with your hair, fixing it like she thinks it should be. “Don’t you want to find a nice guy and settle down and give me grandchildren.”

You started to laugh. “Nope,” you smile. “I’m quite enjoying my life as it is. And you know I never liked nice guys.”

“Leave her alone, Connie,” your dad fusses. “She’s not Sara.” He sits next to you on the sofa and pats your leg. “Y/N is going to live the life she wants. She’s always been our little gypsy.”

Your mom rolls her eyes, knowing what your dad is saying is the truth, no matter how hard she wished otherwise. “I’m going get freshened up,” she tells you, patting your leg and standing up. “We’re taking you to dinner.” Before you can protest, she hurries out of the room.

When she completely disappears, your dad turns to you with a smile on his face. “So who’s the extra toothbrush in the bathroom for?”

You want to play it off like it’s no big deal, but you can’t hide anything from your dad. “Please don’t ask me questions,” you plead. Then a small bit of panic sets in – Roger’s going to be coming over and both of your parents were going to have a million questions. You can’t call him. Looking at the time you know he’s not home anymore. _How am I going to handle this?_ you moan to yourself. You decide that distracting your dad and keeping him in a conversation will help you think of a solution to this problem. “Hey, guess who’s recording at the studio right now?”

He can tell by the smile on your face that it’s someone big. He starts rattling off random musicians, never guessing correctly. When there’s a knock at the door, you hurry and jump up, running to the door before Roger can start yelling something completely inappropriate.

You open the door, holding a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet, and walk out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind you. “My parents are here,” you tell him. “Run away.”

“Absolutely not,” he tells you with a grin as he reaches behind you to open the door.

“No, Roger,” you plead. “Please…”

“I want to meet them,” he says, his tone turning quite serious.

“Why?” you ask. It’s not that you’re ashamed, or embarrassed in any way. You just know that meeting your parents is… well, it’s a pretty big deal.

He grabs you by your waist and pulls you close. “Because I want to meet the people who are responsible for creating you,” he chuckles. “Maybe I want to thank them.”

“Roger, no,” you beg. “They won’t understand…”

He quickly interrupts you. “Won’t understand what? That you have company?” He bends down and gets eyes even with yours as he’s holding on to your shoulders. “Won’t understand that I’m crazy about their daughter?”

“Won’t understand that their daughter is crazy about a guy that’s 14 years older than her and who just so happens to be…”

“Who happens to be crazy about her too?” He starts to chuckle again and pulls you in for a hug. “They don’t need details, Y/N. We met, we got to know each other, and that’s all they need to know right now.” He draws back and gives you that smile you can’t ever say no to. “Unless you’re not ready to tell people about us.”

You glare at him, wishing he didn’t start this conversation in the hallway. “Us?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Well would you rather me just walk in there and introduce myself as the guy who’s fucking their daughter?” he asks, a serious tone in his voice. “Or would you rather me be the guy who…”

“They know _who_ you are,” you groan, interrupting him, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say. “I can’t just walk in there with _Roger Taylor_ and not have to answer a million questions,” you giggle.

“What if I walk in there with Y/N Y/L/N?” He looks at you with that damn smile again. “Come on, let me meet them. I want to meet them.”

You give him a smile, a partially defeated smile, because you know he’s not going to give up. “Fine,” you giggle. “But be warned. My dad makes terrible jokes and my mom wants me married and pregnant as soon as possible, so when you walk in there all she’s going to think is that….”

“I like terrible jokes,” he chuffs. “And I can handle mom, don’t worry.” He looks at the concern on your face and tries he best to be reassuring. “It’ll be fine.” Against your better judgment, you open the door and he follows you inside.

“Hey, Dad,” you say, just a little bit choked up with nerves. He turns around and a huge, giddy smile crosses his face. “This is Roger…” _Please don’t embarrass me_ , you moan to yourself.

He jumps up from the sofa and holds his hand out for a handshake. “Roger. Taylor? The drummer?” He looks at you with a huge smile before turning back. “Nice to meet you. I’m David.” Your mom slowly walks in the living room. “Connie, come here!” your dad excitedly calls her over.

Your mom slowly holds her hand out and forces a smile as she introduces herself, not happy, but not completely upset. “Hello, Roger. I’m Connie.” You were nervous. She knew damn good and well he wasn’t just some friend who happened to drop by. It’s not that she thought you were some virginal being, she just wasn’t happy that he was a bit older than you.

Your dad, on the other hand, was either completely oblivious or way too excited to care. He and Roger entered into a conversation, your dad acting like a good host in your apartment, bringing Roger into the kitchen for a beer and to continue their conversation, leaving you alone with your mom.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” she sternly asks. You roll your eyes and give her an irritated look. “You can’t tell me nothing’s going on when this guy I would consider leaving your father for shows up at your door.” You open your mouth to say something, but she cuts you off. “I don’t think I want to know what’s going on. Don’t answer that.” She sits down on the sofa, silent, and leans her head back. You stand there, not sure what to say or do anymore. “So I guess that’s four of us for dinner then.” She looks over to you. “Well, go get ready,” she says as she waves you off. “You take forever to get dressed.”

You cringe as you walk away, nerves raging inside of you because you have absolutely no idea what in the hell the three of them are going to talk about when you’re not around. The last guy you introduced them to was so intimidated by their questioning he broke up with you the next day because of it, so you didn’t take your usual hour to get dressed. 30 minutes – that’s all it took, and you rushed back into the living room, only to be pleasantly surprised when you walked back in. They were all… getting along, laughing, having a good time in each other’s company.

“Pumpkin!” your dad calls you when he sees you, scooting over so you can sit between him and Roger. “Roger was just starting to tell us about that dinner with those big wigs.”

 _What the fuck?_ you screamed internally as you glared at Roger, who was quite amused with himself. “The dinner?” you choked.

“I was telling them about your skills,” Roger smiles and looks at your mom. “She’s got _great_ skills.” You start choking again. “Well you do. You have great persuasion skills.”

You glare at Roger, amused, but wondering why he’s telling them this and looks at you, trying not to laugh as your mom starts to talk. “She does,” your mom concurs. “When she was 15 she somehow managed to get us to agree to let her go camping in Yosemite with a group of friends alone, chaperoned by her friend’s 18-year-old brother. What parents do that?”

Roger’s looking at you with a curious smirk and keeps the game going. “We don’t usually let people in the recording studio unless they’re working, but Y/N somehow managed to convince us to let her in.” He takes a sip of his beer and starts to chuckle. “I even let her play my drums.”

He’s managing to keep a straight face, but you’re finding it harder to control yourself. “Yeah. He’s a great teacher,” you say. “Taught me all kinds of ways to handle his drumst…”

Roger hurries and clears his throat, stopping you before you can finish. “Y/N told me you were just in Germany. How did you like it?”

You’re relieved. You hated when you were the topic of conversation, and you were thankful he didn’t keep throwing out innuendos that only the two of you would understand. Instead, they kept discussing all of the places they’ve been, and you listened intently for a while, before getting up and walking into the kitchen. Your dad followed behind and startled you with a hug. “He’s a good guy,” he tells you. “Makes me feel better knowing you have someone taking care of you.” You look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “Don’t deny it. That’s his toothbrush isn’t it?” He chuckles as you roll your eyes. “I won’t press for more information.” He pats you on the head and walks back into the living room.

You’re standing by the sink, staring out the window and drinking a glass of water, when Roger sneaks up behind you and wraps you into a hug. “They’re nice,” he murmurs. “Easy to see where you get your personality from.”

You turn around quickly and start to laugh. “If you say I’m like my mother…”

“I have learned long ago to _never_ tell a woman she’s like her mother,” he laughs. He takes the glass from your hand and takes a sip. “She went dress your dad so we can leave.” He starts to lean down to give you a kiss but you hear your mom yelling at your dad as she walks down the hall.

“Alright you two,” she says as she stands by the door. “Hands to yourself,” she chuckles.

You’re not completely mortified the entire evening, but there are moments when your parents can’t help but embarrass you in the way only parents can. They couldn’t help but play you up to him, probably unintentionally but they did it nonetheless. When they excused themselves to bed – you let them take your bedroom – you and Roger were _finally_ alone.

“Our sleeping arrangement has been compromised,” you giggled in a whisper.

“Hope you changed your sheets,” he joked as he heard the bedroom door close, to which you rolled your eyes and playfully slapped him. He scoots over close to you on the sofa, lessening the distance that was intentionally set between you while they were there. “I want to hear more about that camping trip when you were 15,” he jokes. You give him a side-eyed smirk and try to hold on your laugh. “Something tells me it wasn’t an innocent time.”

You roll your eyes and just tell him, because you know if you don’t he’ll just nag you until you do. “I went camping. With my friend’s brother.” You smirk.

“Oh, so you were _always_ naughty,” he laughs as he leans in to kiss you, but you giggle and move away. “What?” he chuckles. “It’s just a kiss.” You give in, like you always do, and let him kiss you. “Wanted to do that all day,” he whispers with a smile.

That fucking smile gets you every single time, and he knows it, just like you know yours gets him every single time. You also know that your parents are right there in your bedroom, but you know that you want him, and that fucking smile doesn’t help things at all. “This is terrible,” you giggle.

“Can you be quiet?” he smirks. “I can be quiet.” He runs his hand under your skirt and smirks. You smirk back at him and grab his waistband, pulling him closer to you so you can unbutton and unzip his pants. He grabs the blanket from the back of the sofa and throws it over his back. “Just in case,” he whispers with a chuckle before leaning in to give you a kiss, a deeper one this time.

You start to giggle, realizing the silliness of what is happening right now. “But Roger,” you say with a dramatic, teasing tone to your whisper. “My parents are in the other room! What if they catch us?”

He reaches over and picks up the TV remote and turns it on. “They won’t catch us,” he jokes back. “Just be quiet.” He moves over you as you lean back on the arm of the sofa, both of you still giggling as you kiss, until he reaches his hand down and starts to rub your already wet essence. “This shouldn’t take long,” he winks, pulling your panties off before bringing his fingers up to his mouth to have a taste of you. “Delicious, as always,” he smirks, reaching back down to play some more.

You keep the kiss going as your hand wanders down to his cock, already hard and waiting. You firmly, but gently, caress the head and shaft, knowing by the depths of his breathing that he quite enjoys it. “Already so hard for me,” you whisper with a giggle as you continue to rub your hand up and down, and nibbling on his ear.

He rubs his cock over your wetness before slowly pushing himself inside you, moving slowly, wanting to make sure you feel every thrust. “Still my naughty minx,” he whispers, his breath matching the heaviness of yours. His pace slowly picks up, keeping his mouth on yours, kissing you deeply to keep any moans quiet. You wrap your legs around his waist, making him push himself deeper inside of you, running your hands up and down his arms. He breaks away from the kiss so he can look directly in your eyes. “Keep your eyes open,” he begs. “Let me look in your eyes.” You shake your head yes, agreeing to his request. Feeling your orgasm approaching, you dig your nails in his back, doing everything you can to stay quiet, staring into each other’s eyes, never wanting to look away.

You reach a hand behind his head and grab his hair, doing anything you can to stifle the moans you want to let out. “I’m ready, Roger,” you whisper. You can’t get anything else out. The intensity of his cock thrusting inside of you is maximized by the deep look of desire you’re seeing in his eyes. He leans in and gives you another kiss, your tongues dancing in unison, but your eyes never close. You don’t break the gaze.

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers, pushing himself in as far as he can go. “I’m ready, too.” You both brace yourself for the waves your bodies are about to experience. Your legs pull him in deeper, he’s thrusting faster, and your eye contact never breaks, both of you gasping at the same time as your climaxes happen in perfect sync.

He stays inside of you as you both desperately try to catch your breaths, still unable to look away from each other, expressions never changing from the passion-filled looks you were giving to each other the entire time. “That was…”

He started to smile. “Fun,” he whispers. He slowly moves himself from inside of you and runs his fingers gently over your still-throbbing flower. “I will never get tired of your taste,” he whispers as he brings his fingers to his mouth, his smile gone from his face. “I will never get tired of _you_.”

You start to sit up, and he takes the hint, pulling his pants back on. “What happens to me after Montreux?” you ask. “If I go with you, what happens after?”

This time he doesn’t crack a joke. He doesn’t tell you not to worry about it. He doesn’t tell you anything he knows will not give you a direct answer. “Whatever you want to happen. If you want to come to Munich, you come. If you want to come back here, you come back.” You start to say something, but he stops you, somehow already knowing what you’re going to ask. “They won’t mind,” he smiles. “I’ve already discussed it with them.” He interrupts you again before you can say anything. “Yes, I really did.” Once again, you open your mouth and he stops you again. “Fred likes having you around because you always take his side. And you laugh at Deaky’s jokes, and he’s always happy to have an audience. And it seems you’re the only one who can get Brian out of his pissy moods when he’s on one.”

You both start laughing, and you can’t help but look at him adoringly. But your expression quickly turns to concern, and he runs his fingers through your hair. “So they know. And they’re…”

“My life is my life, Y/N. No one is going to tell me how to live it,” he smiles. “Besides, I think the fact that I snagged myself a pretty young thing makes them jealous,” he jokes, making you smile. “Don’t worry about them, okay? They don’t think you’re a bother.” He leans close, puts his hand under your chin and raises your mouth to his. “I’m not rushing you for an answer. I really hope you come, though,” he smiles before he gives you one of those slow, soft kisses that will never not make you melt. He looks over at the clock and noticed the time. “I don’t want to go,” he sighs. “But if I stay here any longer we’ll get in trouble,” he chuckles, and kisses you again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk him to the door and give him one more kiss goodbye and close the door. When you turn to walk down the hall to get ready for bed, your face radiantly beaming, you’re greeted by your mom, and jump in surprise. She’s standing there in front of you, smirking, and you’re mortified, hoping like hell she didn’t see everything that went on. “Where does he want you to go?”

You exhale, thanking every deity known to man that she didn’t walk in earlier than she apparently did. “Montreux. Switzerland. The band has a studio there.”

“Oh?” she asks with surprise in her voice. “He wants you to go work? They’re finally teaching you…”

You sigh and a tear starts to fall down your cheek. “Momma…” You start to cry and you don’t know why. You haven’t cried over a guy ever before yesterday, and you don’t know why you’re crying now. She puts a hand on your back and pushes you to the living room. When you sit down, you start laughing. “This is so stupid. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

She sits down next to you and wipes the tears from your cheeks. “Because, my sweet baby is actually experiencing feelings,” she says sarcastically as she pinches your cheeks. “The horror!” Your laughter gets harder, and she gives you a one-armed hug. “He’s a bit older than you,” she points out. “Can’t say I’m pleased with that.”

“Jesus, Momma,” you groan. “It’s not like I’m marrying him.”

“That jackass you dated in high school for a while. What was his name?”

“Barrett,” you said. “Barrett. You hated him because he was in a band and had long hair.”

“No,” she giggled. “When I met your dad _he_ was in a band and had long hair. That’s why your _dad_ hated him. I hated him because he was a jackass.” She moves your hair behind your ears. “Roger looks like Barrett.”

You started laughing uncontrollably. “I dated Barrett because he looked like Roger.”

“Well, I don’t hate Roger. Neither does your dad,” she said with a chuckle. “He’s nice, and he clearly worships the ground you walk on.” A smile crosses your face before you hurry and take it away. “You said there’s a studio over there?” You nod your head, silently answering her. “Right up your alley then,” she smiles as she cups your cheek. “And you’ll be there, with him,” she tells you as she moves your head to her shoulder. “He’s wanting you to traipse off to Switzerland with him and you have to think about this?” You look up at her and give her a blank stare. “I thought we raised you better than that.”

“You didn’t raise me to go running off with some guy on a whim, not knowing what I was getting myself into,” you roll your eyes as you pull away from her and throw yourself back on the sofa.

“No, we didn’t,” she says. “We raised you to be sensible and stable, but that didn’t work out.” Your mom always had a way to make you laugh through any emotion, and you were so grateful she was here with you right now. “You ended up here because you ran off with some guy on a whim.”

“Ugh,” you groan and roll your eyes. “Yeah, I did, and look how good that turned out.”

Your mom tries hard to stifle her laugh, but she’s not doing a good job. “You’ve gone 21 years doing whatever you wanted to do without thinking it through, so why is this so hard for you?”

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know why.” You really didn’t. If anyone would have ever asked you to run away, you’d have packed your things and been out the door without a second thought. “You’re supposed to be stopping me from going,” you tell her. “You’re supposed to tell me this is a bad idea, that it won’t end well, that I need to grow up and…”

“Oh, shut up, Y/N,” she jokingly scolds you. “Do you not see the way he looks at you? I saw it the second he walked in that door.” Of course you see it. Every single time he looks at you it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. “If you don’t go, you’ll never forgive yourself. And like he told you, you can always come back.”

You wanted to go. You wanted to tell him the instant he told you he wanted you to go, but you were more concerned with protecting your heart. This entire time, you were protecting your heart, but that was because you were worried about him leaving you in L.A. Now he was asking you to leave _with_ him, but you were still worried about protecting your heart. You were up all night thinking about it, weighing pros and cons for the first time, wishing like hell you could just stop trying to be sensible for the first time ever. You realized that there was only one thing that was really holding you back, and there was no way you were going to pressure him for an answer on _that_.

“Y/N? Did you know that?” Anna has been talking for the past few minutes but you completely zoned out. “Did you know that they’re the next ones coming record here?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, realizing what she’s talking about. “They won’t be as fun as these guys though.”

Roger walks in and raises his sunglasses. You can see his eyes light up when he sees you sitting at your desk. Your bite your lip, concernedly, before giving him an unsure smile. After greeting Anna and making her blush like he’s prone to do, he sits on your desk and smiles back and you can tell by the look on his face he’s feeling uneasy about the vibe your giving off. “You alright?” he asks as he pinches your cheek.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Just have a lot on my mind.” You give him a soft grin, which he returns. Anna senses that the two of you need some privacy, so she walks outside, leaving the two of you alone.

“Would mom and dad be upset if I keep you to myself tonight?” he asks and you start to laugh. “Yeah, not a good idea.”

You get up and stand between his legs, wrap your arms around his neck, smirk and give him a quick peck on the lips. “Actually, dad’s grilling tonight for dinner and you’re invited.” You give him another peck and he puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. “For some unknown reason, they really like you.”

“Must be my dashing good looks,” he chuckled. “Or my impeccable wit.” This is the first time you allowed the two of you to engage in any sort of public display of affection. You didn’t care who saw or what they thought anymore. You can’t stop kissing him. You can’t stop looking at him. This feeling is something you never knew you wanted, and you realize now that you want to have it for as long as you can. This very moment - this second - this simple moment was filling you with an odd sense of a combined calm and excitement, something you’ve experienced with him before. “What’s gotten into you?” he laughs, finding your out-of-character behavior funny.

All you can do is smile. “Can’t help myself I guess,” you say, giggling. “You’re just so damn adorable.”

“Adorable, huh?” he giggles back before the two of you share another quick peck. “Mmm,” he murmurs as he licks his lips. “Now you taste like strawberries too,” he says with a smile, noticing the taste of your new flavored lip gloss. His eyes glance up and he sees his bandmates looking through the window into the office. “Don’t turn around, but I think we’re being watched,” he murmurs, pretending to be suspicious.

“Damn,” you say in the same tone as him. “I was just about to get frisky, too.” You hear someone tapping on the window behind you and roll your eyes. “Guess it’s time for you to go then.” You turn around and see the rest of the guys puckering up their lips and giggling like schoolboys. Roger groans and gives you one last kiss before getting up from your desk and walking to the door. “Hey, Roger?” He turns back around before going in. “What’s the weather like in Montreux this time of year? I need to know what to pack.”


	8. “Now you have to let me take care of you.”

“We’ll have a couple of days there alone,” Roger tells you, excitedly giving you the complete rundown of of everything that’s going to happen when you get to Montreux in a few weeks. “I’ll be able to show you around, get you familiar with everything.” He starts to ramble on about places to go and things to see, and when he turns his head to look at you in the passenger seat of his car, he stops talking, taking note of the smile on your face. “You’ll love it there.” He pulls your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“I’m sure I will,” you grin. “And if I don’t, I’ll just blame you.” You grin bigger and sarcastically flutter your eyes.

He parked the car in his driveway and turn off the engine. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re coming with me.” He leans over and gives you a kiss. “But enough of that,” he growls. “We finally have three whole days alone and I don’t plan on letting you out of the house.” You both giddily hurry out of the car and into the house, and as soon as the door closes, he picks you up and flings you over his shoulder. “I am not wasting a second,” he laughs as he rushes to get you in the bedroom, where he throws you on the bed.

“Well this couldn’t get more romantic if you tried,” you say through laughter as you start to take off your shirt. It’s been almost a week since the two of you have had proper time alone and it was getting harder and harder for you to resist each other. Sneaking hand jobs under the blanket as soon as your parents went to bed just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Thankfully, they left this morning so there was nothing holding you back.

“Could you possibly go any slower?” he chuffs before helping you take off your pants. “I’ve been so miserable knowing what you’ve been hiding from me for the past week.” He pulls your pants off with little effort and pushes you down on the bed. “Now put me out of my misery and open those legs for me.” He holds your knees and spreads you open, smiling and licking his lips as he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and kneels before you.

He doesn’t waste any time diving in, none of that teasing he likes to do before he starts to work his magic with his tongue. “God, I missed this,” you giggle as you prop yourself up on your arms so you can watch him as you bite your bottom lip and smirk when he makes eye contact. He grips your hips with his fingers and you can feel his smile against you.

You reach your hands up to grab your breasts. Seeing you touch yourself encourages him, and he starts to moan as he sucks on your lips, but he stops you. “No, no,” he says, lifting his head up and pulling your hands away. “I’m doing this all on my own,” he chuckles. “You just lay back and enjoy.” He entwines your fingers together, holding your hands down to your side and moves his mouth back down.

“Jesus, Roger,” you moan. “Promise me you won’t ever stop doing this.”

He lifts his head up and starts to laugh. “So this is why you’re coming with me?” he smirks before moving back down, taking your clit in his lips, gently sucking, just like you like it. You unhook one of your hands from his and grab a handful of his hair. He groans against you and causes a gentle vibration and you start to softly grind yourself against his mouth. “So good,” he mumbles against you. “You’re not allowed to keep her away from me for so long again.” His tongue swirls up and down as he looks up into your pleading eyes and starts to smile before darting his tongue inside of you, lapping up as much of your juices as he can, Your grip on his hair gets tighter, giving a moaning giggle as you grind yourself closer to his mouth. “Cum for me, baby,” he moans. “Let me taste more of you.” His words send a jolt though your body, your legs tingling as you feel wave after wave of ecstasy rush over you.

You sit up and look down at him again, biting your smiling lip as he looks up at you and smiles back. “Get up here,” you giggle. You scoot back on the bed, keeping your legs open, inviting him up to you for more pleasure. He crawls on the bed and takes his shirt off before he hovers over you, doing his playful growl before his lips meet yours.

Then the doorbell rings. “Ignore it,” he grunts. “They’ll come back later.” He starts to kiss you again, but the doorbell doesn’t stop ringing. “Fuck,” he yells. “Ignore it.”

But it keeps ringing. “They’re not going to stop,” you grumble. “Go get rid of them. I’ll wait.” He gives you one more kiss and a smile, and rushes out to the living room as you lay there, completely naked on his bed. You strain to see if you can hear anything, but you don’t. Not until you hear footsteps approaching the hallway.

“I’m only going to be here until Friday,” you hear a woman say. “Thanks again for letting me stay here.” When you hear her voice you hurry and grab Roger’s shirt to cover yourself, just in case she sees you.

“Take the room in the back,” you hear Roger tell her. “And make yourself comfortable.” He walks back in the bedroom and smiles at you as he closes the door. “Did I ever tell you how incredibly sexy you look when you wear my clothes?” He jumps back on the bed and lays next to you. “I didn’t know she was coming today,” he groans as he rubs his eyes. “That’s Julie.” _Perfect_ , you groan to yourself. She’s Roger’s ex that he told you would be staying at his place for a few days. “Don’t worry about her,” he says, rolling over on his side and gliding his hand across your stomach. “She won’t be a bother.”

You start to giggle as he playfully nibbles on your neck. “She better not be. I’m not done with you yet.” Once again, you’re interrupted, this time by a knock on the door.

“Hey, Rog? Where are the towels. I can’t find them,” she asks. “I want to take a shower.” You glare over at him who is equally as annoyed.

“Bathroom closet, middle shelf,” he yells before looking back to you. You roll your eyes and stand up, grabbing your pants and putting them on. “Why are you doing that?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because we won’t be finishing any time soon,” you sarcastically reply. “You’re not being a very good host anyway.” You open his dresser and grab a shirt, laughing as you throw it at him. He doesn’t protest, but he begrudgingly puts his shirt on as he chuckles and grabs you from behind, giving you kisses on your neck. “Stop that,” you giggle and walk out the room, him still latching on, not wanting to let you go.

You walk out in the living room and sit on the sofa and he still can’t keep his hands off you. “Your innocent little giggles turn me on more than your tits do, babe,” he jokes, “because I know you’re a dirty girl underneath all of that.”

“You make me that way,” you grin. “You better make me forget my name later.”

He gives a deep, throaty chuckle. “You won’t even be able to _move_ by the time I’m finished with you.” He pins you down on the sofa and starts to tickle you, smirking with every laugh you make before he leans down and gives you a smooth and drawn-out kiss.

“Picking them young these days, are we?” Julie curtly says as she walks in the living room, wrapped in nothing more than a towel.

“Uh, Jules, this is Y/N,” Roger says with a chuckle as he climbs off of you.

You smile and giggle as you sit up. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sure it is,” she snarks at you, rolling your eyes.

You glance over at Roger and force a sardonic smile before walking to the kitchen for a drink. When you walk away, you hear her talking. “So where’d you get this one from? Bar, club or high school party?”

“Stop it, Julie.”

“Is she living here?” She laughs. “Oh, Roger, tell me she’s not…”

“No, we don’t live together. Not yet. I have my own place for now,” you tell her as you walk back into the living room and giving her a fake, but sweet smile. “Do you mind putting some clothes on? I mean, I got dressed before I came out of the bedroom. It would have been rude otherwise.” Your voice was equally as sweet as your smile, with just a hint of a territorial tone.

You don’t know why you were jealous. Okay, so you do know why – she’s fucking gorgeous, and they obviously have a history, and she’s staying in his house. Not that you ever thought for a second that she’d be some hideous being, but since you saw her, you can’t help but feel a small tinge of intimidation, and when you get intimidated you turn bitchy. You were holding it in, not wanting to give her any ammunition to use against you. When she walked out of the room, Roger turns to you and grabs your hand. “We can go lock ourselves in your apartment instead. We don’t have to stay here.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” you tell him. “I’ll go get my shoes.” When you’re in the bedroom you can hear her start to talk again.

“What are you doing, Roger? Do you know how pathetic this looks?” She wasn’t humored in the slightest. She didn’t sound concerned, but disgusted.

“It doesn’t look pathetic at all,” he snaps at her.

“Some young bimbo in your bedroom and you don’t think this looks pathetic?”

“I don’t really care how this looks.”

“What? Are you buying her things? Giving her some wild adventure she can go back and tell her girlfriends about?”

She shuts up when you walk back into the room. Roger walks by, whispers in your ear that he’s going pack a bag, and you’re left alone with Julie.

“What’d he promise you? A big house? Fancy cars? Diamonds? Marriage?” she asks, her eyebrows lowered.

“He never made me any promises,” you smirk.

“Well that will be good for you in the long run,” she giggles. “Like when you get rusty like an old car and he gets rid of you for a newer one.”

Your smirk grows bigger. “Like he did with you?” She opens her mouth to talk, but you cut her off before she can say anything. “Who or what Roger does is none of your concern,” you snap, your voice lowered to almost a whisper.

“Tell me, Y/N. Do you taste me when you’re sucking his dick?” the snarls.

“No,” you say, your smirk unrelenting. “I bet if you lean in close enough you can smell me on his breath, though.”

Before she can reply, Roger walks back in the room and grabs your hand. “You have the place to yourself,” he tells her. “There’s a key on the counter for you.”

She looks confused, so you decide to help her out. “We’ll be at my place,” you smile. “You know, so we can have a wild adventure I can tell my girlfriends about.”

You and Roger are back at your place, snuggled on the sofa trying to watch a movie, but you can’t get something Julie told him out of your head. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you had to, because it was giving you doubts about leaving everything and going with him to Montreux. “I heard what she told you. That this looks pathetic.”

He pulled you in tighter and kisses the top of your head. “So then you heard me tell her that I don’t care what it looks like.”

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t want to be a problem for you. I don’t want to…”

“Hey. Look at me,” he tells you, pushing your chin up so he can look in your eyes. “I don’t _care_ what anyone else says or thinks. You’re the only one whose opinion I care about. Do you care what people say?”

“No, I don’t,” you smile.

“Then don’t worry about what some bitter tramp has to say.”

You out your head down on his shoulder. That should have been enough to relax you, but it wasn’t. You pick your head up and look at him again. “Rog?”

He looks at you and smiles, holding the back of his hand to your cheek. “I love you, Y/N. If people have a problem with that…”

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops. “You… what?”

“I love you.”

You straddle his lap and an enormous smile draws itself across your lips. “You do?”

“I fucking love you,” he tells you, his voice as soft as the touch of his hand on your face. “I don’t know what you did to me, Y/N. I don’t know how you did it, but I love you.”

You lean in and press your forehead to his. “I love you.”

“Oh yeah?” he smiles.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He slides his hand to the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair and pulling you in for a kiss.

Your phone starts to ring. “You have got to be kidding me right now.” You try to ignore it, but it seems like it’s starting to get louder and louder with every ring. You answer it, and before you can even say anything, Kevin, the studio owner, starts barking on the other end.

“I need you back in San Diego. Tomorrow.”

“Oh come on Kevin, not now!” you yell. Roger watches you intently as you listen to your boss ramble on. “For how long? A week??”

“Quit,” Roger mouths to you. You cover the receiver so he can talk out loud. “Tell him you quit,” he whispers.

“I can’t quit my job,” you whisper. He laughs and raises his eyebrow, making you realize that you were going to be quitting in a few weeks anyway. “Hey, Kevin? I’m not going. Why? Because I quit. I’ll be in tomorrow to get my things and bring you my keys.”

Roger grabs you and pulls your close. “Now you have to let me take care of you,” he says with his face buried in your neck.

“Hey,” you say at you jokingly shove him away. “I still have 3 weeks of independence left.”

“Oh, well, then in that case I’ll get going…” he starts to stand up from the sofa, but you pull him back down.

“Like hell you are,” you giggle as you straddle his lap again.

“If you don’t need me there’s no reason for me to be here.”

“Oh, I need you,” you say as you bite your bottom lip and run your hands on his chest.

“Want and need are two different things,” he smirks.

“I know… I _need_ you.”

“How bad do you _need_ me?”

You stand up and start walking to your bedroom. “Why don’t you come and find out?”

He follows you, grabbing you from behind and holding you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Two weeks. That’s how long it took for me to love you.” He gently turns you around and you melt immediately when you see the smile on his face. “When I came over, and we had dinner. And I fell asleep, holding you,” he whispers, running his hand up your arm and guiding it to cup your face. “I haven’t wanted to let you go since.”

The air in the room seems to get heavy as a wave of heat flushes over your body. He leans down and kisses you passionately. “I don’t want you to let me go,” you whisper into his mouth, your arms wrapped around him.

His hands move to start undressing you like he has so many times before, but this time his eyes were different and his movements were slow, like he was savoring every inch of your body. Maybe his eyes weren’t different, but they felt different now that you knew how he felt about you. “You’re an absolute goddess,” he says as he finishes undressing you. You stand there before him, never breaking the eye contact as he takes off his clothes before moving you down to the bed.

You let out a quiet whimper into his mouth as you kiss, his hand roaming over your body. The only time your kiss broke was to satisfy your mutual need to breathe. His eyes pierced you as his hand passed over your ribcage before making its way to your waiting breast, his thumb passing back and forth against your nipple.

Your hands make there way to his shoulders, and you nudge him to move, laying on his back as you move on top of him, kissing his lips first before making your way down. He’s watching every move you make, allowing himself to give up control, for now at least. You keep your eyes on him as you fill your mouth with his throbbing flesh, stroking him with your moist lips. He moves your hair from your face as he gazes at you while you work.

He calls you up to him, not wanting to finish this way, although he could – he loves the way your mouth feels on him. You didn’t protest. The simmering heat that was developing between your legs made it impossible for you to. He sits up, waiting for you, and when you get to him, he pulls you to him. Holding his wanting cock in your hand, you lower yourself, guiding him into you as you straddle his hips. He pulls you forward to kiss you, your tongues dancing together as you start to rock your hips, clutching a handful of his hair as his hands hold your back. He starts to meet your rocking with his thrusts, letting you feel the unrelentless push and pull of him deep inside of you while he kept kissing you with an equally unrelenting hunger. You start to cum, but he holds on, continuing to push his throbbing rod into you as far as he can go.

When he knows you’re finished, he rolls you over so you’re laying underneath him, his cock firmly inside of you as he gazes down into your eyes. You were no longer some quick lay, or someone to keep him occupied during his stay in town. You quit being that two him a long time ago. You are his, and he is yours. He slowly rolls his hips into you, wanting to savor every single second, wanting to feel every single inch. With every needful push he makes, you feel beautiful, and desired… and loved.

He rested himself on his arms, his hands holding your head, and he leans down to kiss you. He moves his lips down your neck and to your collarbone, his thrusts growing faster and deeper. You run your fingernails on the nape of his neck, moaning with pleasure, your lumbering breaths in perfect harmony with his. You bring his face up to look at you. You want – no, you need to look at him. “I love you,” He breathlessly whispers as his eyes meet yours again.

It’s that very moment you realize that you’re giving everything to him – all of your emotions, all of your physical self. Everything. As he leans in for another kiss, you whisper that you love him, too. Your moans are getting louder as he starts to kiss your neck, thrusting faster inside of you. He turns you on your side, your back to him so he can hold you close, never missing a beat as he continues pumping inside of you, deeper and harder than before, as you have one arm wrapped around his neck. He locks his fingers in yours, his movement getting faster, and you can hear every breath and moan he makes in your ear. “Are you ready, baby?” he asks, panting and heavy.

“Yes,” you groan. “Cum with me.” Your walls start to constrict, and you feel every throb he is making inside of you. You turn your head and look at him looking down at you, and as soon as your eyes meet he gives you one final hard thrust, filling you with every drop. You cry out as you climax, your insides exploding in a sensation of electrified bliss and pure bliss. The almost pained concentration leaves his face and makes way for a smile, that damn smile he’s given you so many times before, but this time it’s giving you a feeling of love and adoration. You can resist smiling back at him. You both know what each other is thinking.

All tension subsided, and you lay there relaxed. He’s still holding you as your breathing finally slows to a regular pace. You move to sit up, but he doesn’t let you, pulling you closer to him instead. “No,” he chuckles. “Still not ready to let you go.”


	9. "Why didn't you pack this?"

Two days. Your entire life will change in two days and you’re a nervous wreck, sitting alone in your living room, waiting for Roger to finish at the studio. You’ve already packed, and since you no longer have a job to occupy yourself with, you’re bored, and left alone with every single nervous thought that’s popping into your head. What if you hate it? What if everyone hates you? What if this is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made? What if this all ends in disaster?

The phone rings and snaps you out of your daze. It’s Roger, and the second you hear his voice your nerves subside. “Dinner, with the guys, yes?” Before you can even answer, he starts talking again. “I’m leaving here soon so I’ll come pick you up.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you joke.

He chuckles. “Wear that little black thing I saw in your closet yesterday,” he murmurs, completely ignoring your question. “Under your clothes, of course.”

You quickly run to your closet, not knowing what “thing” he was talking about, but when you see it, your pulse begins to race. You smirked and gently fondle the soft material of black bustier on the shelf. _Is this what he was talking about?_ you wonder, checking the rest of your closet and not seeing anything else that was black. You undress and slip it on, along with the panties, garters and fishnets that are with it. You put on a short black skirt, red shirt and a pair of heels, then go back in the living room to wait for Roger.

“You’re coming to Munich, yes?” Freddie asks at dinner. “I need at least one person who agrees with me. And the ideas you had for ‘It’s a Hard Life’ were perfect. We finished it yesterday.” He took a deep breath as you sat there with an amused smile on your face. “Please come, Y/N. I’ve grown attached to you.” He smiles and grabs your hand on the table.

“My plan is to…” you start to explain, but Roger comes back to the table. “If Roger wants me to go, I will be there.”

Freddie rolls his eyes and squeezes your hand. “I don’t give a fuck about what Roger wants. You’re coming.”

You glance over at Roger who leans in to whisper. “See? I told you they’re alright with you coming.” He starts talking to Freddie, you’re not listening to what they’re saying – you’re too busy wondering why and when you got so lucky, not just to be right smack in the middle of life with your favorite band, but to have befriended them, and to have actually fallen in love. People may think it’s ridiculous, or pathetic, or whatever they want to think. You don’t care. Roger doesn’t care. No one else’s opinion matters. You leave for Montreux in two days. Finally, you and Roger will truly have some time alone away from everyone, when he’s not working, of course.

“So that settles it,” you hear Brian say when you return back to reality. “We’ll see you next Wednesday.” You glance up and see Brian, Freddie and John leaving the table.

Roger puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in for a hug. “Don’t worry. There won’t be any late night sessions, so we’ll still have plenty of time to ourselves.”

You were confused. “They’re coming too? But I thought…”

He started to laugh and kissed the top of your head. “Like they said, they’ll only be there a few days.” You look up at him and smile and he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go get your bags and you come stay with me, yeah?”

“The first thing we need to do when we’re finished in Munich is get you out of this flat,” you hear Roger say as you’re walking around to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” he says before sighing when he sees you walk back in the room. “I just think, you know, you’d want to…” He walks over to you and smiles. “Maybe move into the house?”

“What house?” you ask, genuinely not knowing what he’s talking about.

“Whichever house I’m at,” he says. “I bought the house. Here. In L.A. I thought if you didn’t want to come along on the whole tour you would want to stay there, and then…”

“Wait.” You interrupt him, startled by what he’s saying. “Slow down,” you chuckle. “You bought the house?”

“Yes.” He flashes a big grin.

“Tour?”

“Yes. If you want to come,” he says, still smiling.

You smile as well, and take a deep breath before putting you hand to his cheek. “You’re so damn cute.” You start to giggle. “Can we make it through two weeks in Montreux first?”

“This maturity of yours is absolutely ridiculous,” he laughs. “But of course, we need to get through Montreux first. I don’t doubt for a second that we will.” He dramatically dips you down and gives you an equally dramatic kiss before picking you back up. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Y/N. Don’t think I’m going to fuck it up for one second.”

“I know you won’t,” you whisper and smile. “I know.”

As soon as he closes the door at the house, he rushes to you and pulls you close, kissing you deeply as he starts to take off your shirt. “Why haven’t you worn this for me before?” he whispers as he runs his hands over the bustier you’ve been hiding from him all night. You stay quiet, not sure if you’re supposed to speak. You’re not sure of anything right now. He grazes his fingertips from your upper arms, moving them slowly down to your elbows, before touching your sides then across your stomach. His touch was so light and soft, so teasing. Your head falls back as he moves his closer, his lips hardly touching yours before he pulls away. Your craving is building up inside and you’re not sure how you’re managing to stand there without grabbing him and demanding more. He unzips your skirt and pushes it down, making it fall to your feet.

His fingers roam down to your panties, perfectly following the contour of your box. All you wanted was to feel his touch without the barrier, but he’s denying you, teasing you again with a soft teasing touch of his lips. “You are so fucking perfect,” he says with a gravel in his voice that hints at his own rising lust.

You’re drowning, every touch he’s giving you making it harder for you to breathe, his fingers softly caressing your clit through the lace material. The constant slow motion only made your passion grow, and you gasp. He hooks his fingers inside your panties, putting the tip of his middle finger inside of you barely enough to wet it. He started to rub your clit again with that finger and you close your eyes, the feel of every touch heightened. He suddenly stops touching you and you open your eyes. He grabs your hand and walks you to the bedroom.

You watch him as he takes off his shirt, his eyes not moving from yours, and all you can think about is how you want to tease him as much as he’s been teasing you, but he isn’t going to let you. Instead, he pulls you close, his chest rubbing against your skin. The lips he keeps pressing on your neck are driving you crazy, and you let out a soft moan. He guides you to the bed and motions for you to lay down, and you obey. He grabs your wrist and pulls it to the headboard, confusing you for a moment before wrapping it in what feels like a necktie, tying it and constricting you. He looks at you to make sure you’re okay, and you smirk and nod. He smirks back in approval before tying your other wrist to the headboard in the same manner.

He hasn’t shaved in a few days for some reason, but you don’t mind at all. It somehow made him seem more animalistic, if that was even possible. And looking at him right now, looking into his ocean blue eyes, all you can think about is how you want to feel his stubble between your thighs, on your mound as he flicks and circles your clit with his tongue. He finally kisses you, his tongue darts in your mouth as he runs his hand over your body, stopping at your waist so he can pull down your panties. He still smirks as he moves down, pulling them off completely over your fishnet thigh highs and heels that you’re still wearing. He gives gentle kisses up your legs, tickling you with his facial stubble as he makes his way to your thighs, using one hand to part your lips and rub lightly over your clit. Your temperature starts to rise, and you bite your bottom lip in tension as your breathing becomes ragged in anticipation.

He plunges two fingers inside of you as he continues to kiss his way to where he really wants to be, but not before raising his head to look at you, making sure you were still comfortable. Your moans start to get louder, and he moves back down, gently pulling back the hood of your now swollen clit, and begins to softly lick. You arch your back, bringing yourself closer to him, looking down and completely transfixed at the sight in front of you. He pulls his mouth away and removes his fingers, bringing them up to your mouth and you suck in them eagerly. “Still my naughty minx,” he whispers. “I saw something else you’ve hidden from me,” he growls. He reaches down to his side and pulls out a toy – you immediately recognize it and your mouth drops open. “Do you use this often?” he asks, wryly.

“No,” you whisper, unsure how he’s feeling about it. “I haven’t needed to,” you smirk. Without replying, he turns it on and starts to rub it against your already sensitive clit. You start to buck off of the bed again, unable to control your movements, your groans getting louder as you feel the vibrations. He watches you closely, gauging how close you were to orgasm, noting all of the subtle signs he’s learned over the last few months. Your orgasm was starting to rush toward you like a tsunami, and your moans can’t be restrained like you are. “Oh my god,” you say aloud.

He sees you tensing. He sees your head throw back. He knows you’re about to peak, and he quickly pulls the toy away, denying you your release. He moves back up to meet your mouth with his and gives you a gentle kiss. “You are mine, and mine alone,” he whispers. You give him a soft nod and smile, and he returns the smile. “Only I get to make you cum,” he says as you giggle. “Good girl.” He brings the toy back to your clit, teasing you again, as he kisses you deeply and you moan into his mouth. “Only me, Y/N,” he whispers after bringing you close again. He stands next to the bed and takes off his pants as you watch, noticing the stiffness of his cock. “Look what you’ve done,” he chuckles as he crawls back on the bed, climbing over you. He starts to rub his cock on your wetness, bringing you even more tingling sensation. “My beautiful girl, so desperately needing to cum for me.” He leans down and gives you another kiss and whispers into your mouth. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?

“Yes,” you breathlessly reply. “I _need_ to.” He moves his head back and looks into your eyes, still rubbing his cock against you. “Please,” you beg. He smirks as he starts to slowly push himself inside of you. “Please, Roger,” you groan. The slow and shallow back and forth thrusts are pure torture, but you know it won’t last long. You can tell by his deep and rapid breathing. You instinctively try to move your hands to his back, but you can’t because he still has you tied to the bed. You are completely at his mercy.

Your body starts to quiver as his hands grab your hips, and he continues to fuck you in this steady rhythm, full of passion, his eyes gazing down at yours. “My dirty girl,” he coos with a smirk. “Are you ready for me?” You nod your head yes as best you can and he leans over you, becoming more forceful with his thrusts, lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders. He grunts and you gasp as he starts to fuck you hard, and rough. “I’m so close already,” he grunts in your ear. “Are you ready to cum for me?”

“Yes, Roger,” you struggle to get out. “Yes, I’m ready. Please.” He pounds his cock into you, harder and faster than before, holding your shoulders to steady himself. You shriek as your climax overtakes your entire body, and his follows immediately. His hips start to jerk wildly as he explodes inside of you. “Give it all to me, baby,” you encourage as his entire body quakes.

He collapses on top of you, both of you breathless and spent, him still inside of you. “I love you,” he whispers with a smile before giving you a soft kiss.

“I love you too,” you whisper back. “Can you please untie me?” you giggle. “I haven’t touched you…” He raises his brow jokingly and starts to untie your hands. “I like touching you.” You bring your hand to the nape of his neck and pull him down for another kiss. “But I won’t complain too much if you want to tie me up more often.”

He smiles as he gives you another kiss. “Why didn’t you pack this?” he asks as he rubs his finger over your corset. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll buy you some new things,” he chuckles and winks. “And these heels…” He starts to do his playful growl and nibbles on your neck, making you giggle before looking back up at you. “Two more days,” he whispers as he smiles.

“I know, posh, but I want all the privacy I can get with my girl,” Roger tells you as he hugs you from behind after stepping on to the private jet he’s chartered. “There’s even a bed in the back.” He starts to tickle you but you pull out of his hold, laughing, and scurry away from him.

“So this is really happening,” you observe as you start to look around. “I mean, it’s really happening.”

“Yes,” he tells you, grabbing you from behind again and resting his chin on your shoulder. “The first step to the future.”


	10. "And how should I serve you?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Last chapter. I'll pick the saga up again sometime. (And I know the timeframe is off, but it's fiction and it's my story so I do what I want. :D )

“It’s beautiful here,” you tell Roger as you look out of the window at the nighttime view, the moon full and lighting up everything it’s glow touches with absolute perfection.

“Yeah, and quiet. Quite a retreat from the madness.” “We usually stay in a house when we’re here, but I thought you and I could stay here. Less time between here and the studio, since the studio is downstairs and all.”

“Do you hear that?” You turn and face him, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him “That silence is telling us that we are completely alone.”

“Finally,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you whisper. Your shared smile and adoration is interrupted by a banging on the door. “Really?” you fuss in a humored whine.

He walks to the door and you turn back to soak in the amazing view of the water and mountains in the distance. You can hear laughter and voices coming from the other room but try your hardest to ignore them, silently wishing for whoever these people are to just go away. But they don’t.

“Hey, babe, come meet the guys,” he says, poking his head around the corner. Not exactly the night you were hoping, but you keep your groaning to yourself and go meet his other bandmates.

They’re nice enough – nothing wrong with them on a personal level, but you wish they would leave. They’re all drinking way too much and being way too loud and obnoxious, even Roger. At 11pm you’ve had enough of this “fun” and excuse yourself to bed. Not that you were going to get any sleep. The walls are surprisingly thin, and you can hear everything. Every footstep. Every cough. Every cigarette being lit. Every word. Everything.

“Does she have any friends, Rog?” you hear one of them ask. “I need to get me one like that.” There’s another one who jokingly asks how much he’s paying for you, and another that cracks a joke about the age difference, and you break down. You think that maybe this was a mistake after all. Or maybe they’re just that drunk, you don’t know. They’re definitely not like the others. Brian, John and Freddie never talked about you like that and never treated you with anything but respect.

They finally leave around 1am and Roger comes sneaking in the bedroom, trying to be quiet but he keeps knocking things over as he’s trying to undress and it’s starting to piss you off more than you already are. But you seethe quietly, because you don’t even want to talk to him. He finally crawls into bed and scoots himself behind you, and pulls you tight to him, but you don’t react. “Are you sleeping?” he whispers loudly, and you stay quiet. “Wake up, Y/N,” he whispers again. “I’m fucking hard and I need you.”

“You smell like a liquor cabinet and cigarette smoke,” you snap, not turning around to face him.

He snuggles his face into your neck and rubs your leg with one of his hands. “But baby, I really…”

“You need help?” you snap again. “You have two hands. Help yourself.” You push his hand away and move yourself to give some distance. He rolls over onto his back and starts laughing. “Go to sleep, Roger,” you groan.

He gets out of the bed and walks to the bedroom door, which he smacks himself in the face with when he opens it. “Fuck!” he yells out with pain in his voice, and you jump up and rush to him. “I hit my fucking nose!”

You know you shouldn’t laugh. He’s hurt. But you can’t help laughing anyway. “Idiot,” you giggle. “Come on.” You guide him out to the living room that is littered with empty beer bottles. “Sit down,” you tell him as you push him to the sofa and turn on the lamp. “You’re bleeding.”

When you walk back in with towels, he’s looking up at you, a pathetic look on his lightly bloodied face. “If you’d have just had sex with me this wouldn’t have happened,” he chuffed.

“I was planning on having sex with you but we were rudely interrupted,” you quip as you sit next to him and hold a towel to his nose. “Did you forget how doors work?”

“It was dark. I couldn’t see,” he tells you with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and bring his hand up to hold the towel himself. “You’re so pretty,” he slurs slightly. “I’m a fucking asshole.”

“Not always,” you grin. “But right now you’re an asshole with a bloody nose.”

“I think I broke my face,” he groans, moving the towel away.

You look at his face with an amused look. “Nope. Still adorable,” you giggle. “An adorable asshole with a bloody nose.” He’s sorry for what happened tonight. You can see it all over his face. “Hey, it’s alright,” you tell him. “I know I can’t keep you to myself all the time.”

“Not exactly how I wanted our first night here to go,” he murmurs. “But tomorrow night? I promise. You and me.”

… but it didn’t exactly happen that way, because he stayed in the studio until 3am. The next night he was there until 6am. Every single night for that entire first week, he would either be at the studio until some ungodly hour, drunk with “the guys,” or both. You told yourself it was stupid to be angry about it. He’s there to work – he never said he wasn’t there to work. He didn’t bring you there to coddle you. Sure, he told you that you’d have your evenings together, but you know how recording goes. There’s really no set timeframe, and when the music is flowing, you can’t stop making it because you promised your girlfriend dinner and a movie. It doesn’t mean you weren’t annoyed with it all, especially given how today is now Wednesday, and John, Brian and Freddie will be here any minute.

“There she is!” Freddie exclaims when he walks in and sees you reclining in the living room. “Where’s your shadow?”

“Same place he’s been for most of the last week. The studio.”

“Uh oh,” John sings. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No, no trouble,” you say with a smile. “It’s actually nice having no responsibilities.”

“Ah, only responsibility being to be pretty and fuck him whenever he wants it, right?” Freddie jokes. You purse your lips and raise a brow. “Don’t tell me you’ve already started to deny him when he fucks up!” he laughs heartedly.

“Hey! I will have you know I was only denied once,” Roger shouts as he walks in and points to his bruised nose. “And this is what happened, so I don’t think I’m ever going to be denied again.”

“You punched him?” Brian asks you, somewhat horrified but also just a tad amused.

“No, I didn’t punch him,” you giggle. “I wanted to, but the door took care of that for me.”

“You’ll never believe who I ran into about an hour ago,” Roger says, quickly changing the subject. “Bowie. He’s here for a few days. I told him I’d get all of you down to the studio tonight.” He turns and faces you and sees you’re starting to get annoyed. “You, too, Y/N.”

Queen – your favorite band. They always have been. David Bowie? Well, he’s second in your adoration. And when Roger told you that you were going to meet him – not just meet him, spend the night hanging out with him – you were ecstatic. You didn’t want to show it. You tried to keep your cool like you did the day he and the rest of the guys walked in the studio months ago. Roger was amused watching you meticulously fix your hair and take forever to pick out what you were going to wear. “You didn’t bother putting this much effort into your clothes the day you were going to meet me,” he joked. “I met you in jeans and a t-shirt.”

“That’s because I wasn’t trying to impress you,” you joked back, fluttering your eyes.

He – Bowie, that is – was utterly charming when you met him. He held your hand and kissed it like a proper gentleman, his voice soothing and a little deep. His humor was terrific, and although he wasn’t trying to, he had this aura of mysteriousness surrounding him. And when he would talk, you paid very close attention. And when you all went to get dinner, he pulled your chair out for you and helped you sit down. Roger hated it.

Now here you are, in the studio with all of them. You’ve been around these guys long enough to witness their bickering in the studio. Whether it be because of a chord change in a certain place, lyrics being changed, the tempo – didn’t matter. They bickered. Some days the bickering was constant. Sometimes it would explode into an all out shouting match. But nothing you had ever witnessed could prepare you for this moment you’re witnessing right now.

It’s been a few hours, listening to them banter and play music, including you in all of it. But the best was sitting here watching Freddie and David – he insisted you call him that – trying to out-diva each other. Freddie would sing something, and David would have to do it louder. David would sing something, and Freddie would have to do it more dramatically. It was hilarious.

Just as he would do back in Los Angeles, if something didn’t sound right or didn’t seem like it fit, Freddie was on the speaker asking for your input. Not David. He wouldn’t use the speaker. He would walk out and come sit right next to you and discuss what the problem was. It was harmless, but Roger didn’t think so.

He didn’t like the way you’d smile, or the way you’d get smiled at, or how your arms would touch, or how you’d play with the underneath of your hair while intently listening. You knew it was getting to him and you played it up big time. He hasn’t given you much attention since you arrived. He’s barely even touched you. So maybe, you thought, if you’d flirt just a _little_ too much he would give you the attention you’ve been aching for. And David? Well, he didn’t mind the flirting one bit. He ate it up, and he would flirt right back. You were being quite giggly, a bit too much for Roger’s liking. You used to giggle and flirt with him like that when you first met, after all. They were trying to work out a particular drum part for this song they were making you and David were having what looked like a very flirty conversation. You were really only sharing L.A. stories, but he couldn’t hear you from way on the other side of the room behind the glass.

“Rog, concentrate, for fuck’s sake,” Freddie scolds from the desk. He turns and looks back at you. “Go give him a blowjob so he relaxes and stops being so fucking useless,” he laughs.

“Go on,” David jokes. “We won’t watch. Promise.” He smiles and gives you a wink, and that was the last straw for Roger, who throws his drumsticks on the ground and rushes out of the box.

You stand up to greet him, but he says nothing, instead opting to grab your arm and walk out of the studio. You hear the rest of the guys chuckling as you do, making comments about how maybe the blowjob was going to happen. When the door slams behind you, you stop walking and yank your arm away, infuriated with Roger. “What is _wrong_ with you?” you yell. “And who in the hell do you think you are dragging me out like that?”

“Who in the hell do you think _you_ are throwing yourself at him in front of my face?” he yells back. Your forehead wrinkles and your eyes squint as your lips purse together. “Oh, I could see everything. _Everything_ ,” he sneers.

You’re seething inside. He’s never acted like this before, and you start to wonder if this is who he really is. Easily jealous and domineering. This isn’t what you signed up for. “Oh, so you saw me when I tore off my pants, got on his lap and fucked the shit out of him?” you snarked dramatically. “Thank _god_ , because I really didn’t know how to tell you it happened!”

“You’re here with _me_ , Y/N, not him!” he yells.

“Yes, I’m here with you,” you snarl. “Although I think you forget I’m here half the time because you’re too busy drinking until you can’t even walk straight when you could be spending just a little bit of your time with me like you promised.”

“Where are you going?” he carps as you start to walk away. “We aren’t finished.”

“We _are_ finished,” you sneer. “Enjoy the rest of your night. I’ll see you whenever you come to bed, as usual.” You storm off in a rage and go back to the apartment.

He eventually comes to bed. You have no idea what time it is, but the sun is up now, and the first thing he does is lay on his back and gets as close as possible to you. You nuzzle up to him, laying your head on one shoulder and your hand on the other, not awake fully. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispers. “I don’t know why…” You bring your hand up to his mouth and cover it, letting him know you want him to stop talking, and he starts to chuckle. “Go back to sleep.” He grabs your leg and wraps it over his waist. “I love you,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you too,” you mumble. “Pull something like that again and I’m going to break your face for real,” you giggle. “Did the song get finished?” You raise your head and rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Mmm hmm.” He looks over at you and smiles. “I’ll play it for you later.” He puckers his lips, beckoning you for a kiss, and you oblige with a soft peck. “I’m sorry you’re not enjoying yourself here.”

“I actually love it here,” you tell him. “It’s beautiful. Just wish I could see you more, that’s all.”

“I know,” he groans. “Me too. I’ve been a complete dick.”

“Yes you have,” you giggle as you kiss his neck. “You owe me.”

“After we get some sleep, I’m all yours,” he smiles. “I am doing nothing today but spending it with my girl.” You give him another kiss before laying your head back on his shoulder and drifting off to sleep.

“Hey,” you hear Roger whisper in your ear. “Wake up.” You hurry and sit up, and he’s sitting next to you on the bed. “You’ll sleep until tomorrow if I let you,” he chuckles as he pats your hip.

You slowly sit up and groan. “I hardly slept, Roger. What time is it?”

“2:00,” he laughs. “Get up. Come on,” he says, dragging you out of bed. “I’ve sent specific instructions that you and I are not to be bothered today by anyone.” A big, toothy grin happens upon his face. He’s obviously excited about something, but you don’t ask.

After getting showered and dressed, he walks you down to a quaint little sidewalk café where you enjoy lunch. The occasional person would stop by and glance, clearly recognizing him, but none would ever stop and bother him. “Word must have gotten around to everyone not to bother us today,” you giggle. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever been somewhere with you where no one is coming up to you.”

Everything was perfect. You strolled around old town, did some window shopping (he wanted to buy you everything you said you liked, but you wouldn’t let him) and walked along the lake. The conversation never wavered – it never did when you were with him. And he held your hand and gave you sweet kisses, in full public view, announcing to the world that you were his.

You sit together by the lake, arms wrapped together, your head on his shoulder, watching the amazing sunset that looked like a perfect painting. “Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him.

“You showed me the sunset in L.A. I thought it was only nice to repay you for that,” he says.

“No,” you giggle and look up at him. “I mean here, to Montreux. To be with you.”

He sighs deeply and smiles a benevolent smile. “It’s not going exactly as I planned.”

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a jealous, raging bull last night?” you quip. “I could have sworn that was somewhere in the plan.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” he says, quite embarrassed. “I don’t know what got into me.” You lightly pinch the tip of his nose, crinkle yours, and put your head back down on his shoulder. “I take it you don’t want to come to Munich, given how this has been a complete disaster.”

“I never said that,” you say. “And this isn’t a complete disaster, silly. We’re sitting here now, aren’t we?” He chuffs and shakes his head. “I knew you were going to be working, Roger. It’s not like this is a vacation.”

“I promised you time,” he groans. “And I haven’t given you any.”

“I don’t need your time 24 hours a day. Besides, if you’d have been around constantly I wouldn’t have found that bakery that makes the best chocolate croissants I’ve ever had in my life.”

“What else have you been getting up to?”

“Nosing around, pretty much. The lady at this antique shop not too far from here and I have become pretty good friends,” you giggle. “She’s learning English so she likes to talk to me.”

“Antiques, huh? Freddie will love to hear you like antiques.”

“Oh, we already talked about that. I mean, it’s not like I know what I’m looking at. I only went in because she saw me gawking at a ring she had in the window and insisted I try it on.”

He sits there and adoringly listens to you ramble on about the people you’ve met and the things you’ve seen. “And there’s a nice little boutique shop next door that has this shirt I think I’m going to buy tomorrow. It’s a bit more pricey than I usually pay for clothes, but I think I’ll treat myself.”

He clears his throat and quickly changes the subject. “Remember when I asked you what you wanted out of life? What did you say?”

“To be happy,” you reply with a smile.

He holds two fingers under your chin and tilts your head, looking deep into your eyes. “Do I make you happy, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you say softly. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been.”

He smiles lovingly, his eyes reflecting the setting sun. “Do you know what I want out of life?”

“Money. Fame. Fancy things,” you laugh.

“That’s all nice,” he laughs. “But no.”

“Well then,” you say, shifting your body to face him. “What _does_ Roger Taylor want out of life?”

“To make you happy.”

“Well then you have succeeded.” You lean in and give him a quick kiss.

“Ah, I may make you happy now,” he says dramatically with his finger raised before turning serious, “but I want to always make you happy, Y/N.”

“Well, keep up the good work,” you giggle.

He sighs. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Ok, ok I’m sorry,” you giggle before taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to stop being silly.

He looks out over the lake, deep in thought. “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

“Hopefully wherever you are,” you smile, holding his arm and resting your head back on his shoulder.

“What about in 20?”

“Roger?” you ask with a nervous laugh. “What…”

He interrupts you. “Marry me.”

You start to choke and quickly lift your head up, looking at him. “What?”

He has a huge smile on his face as he turns to look at you. “Marry me,” he whispers.

“Roger…” A happy tear falls down your cheek and he wipes it away with his thumb.

“I know this is crazy and maybe even compulsive. And I know you probably wonder if I’m only doing this because of last night but I promise you I’m not because I got this yesterday…” He holds out the ring you fell in love with at that antique shop, and your mouth falls open. “Fred told me you mentioned it and the lady there said that when you tried it on it was a perfect fit…” You’re genuinely stunned right now. “I was going to wait until we left here. There’s this small town in Germany I was going to take you to when we drive to Munich…”

“Roger,” you hold up a finger to his lips. “You’re rambling.”

“Yeah, sorry. I thought we could drive to Munich from here and…”

“Roger…” You try to stop his rambling again, but he doesn’t hear you.

“… there’s this town that is quaint and quiet and…”

“Roger! Stop talking!” you laugh. “Are you going to put it on my finger or not?”

The big smile comes back to his face and he relaxes. “So you will?”

You jokingly shrug. “I’ve always been crazy and compulsive so there’s no reason to stop now.” But you quickly give him a genuine, adoring smile. “And because I love you and I want to see what happens in 20 years.”

“I love you,” he tells you with a whisper before kissing you while putting the ring on your finger. “Should we go back?”

“Oh, I think so.”

“I’d put on some music, but I don’t want to drown out the sounds of your sexy little moans,” he grumbles, pulling you close to him.

“Mmm,” you murmur as he gives you a deep, passion filled kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

He gives you a deep chuckle. “I have a lot to make up for, don’t I?”

“Absolutely,” you say as you push him away from you. “You better give me whatever I want.”

“I’ll do anything you want me to as long as you keep looking at me like that.”

“Anything, huh?” you smirk and sit down on the bed. “Get those clothes off, then.”

He smiles as he kicks off his shoes and starts to unbutton his shirt, unbuckle his belt and unfasten his pants. You’re already breathing hard just from watching him. It’s been far too long. Sure, it’s only been just over a week, but considering how you’d normally get it almost every night, it’s been far too long. You just know you’re about to get a good one here and now. He looks you in the eye and gives you a ‘I hope you’re ready for this’ look and you start to giggle.

He slides his pants down and steps out of them, standing up straight to give you the best possible view of his swelling cock. He quickly finishes taking off his shirt, and now he’s standing in front of you, completely naked. You look him up and down, inspecting him and smirking as you bite down on your lip. You sit on the edge of the and motion him over, and he reaches out to touch your face. He pulls your face to his and kisses you as softly, licking your lips before running his tongue around your jawline to your earlobe. As he kisses his way lightly around your neck he massages your thigh with his other hand, causing you to instinctively spread your legs before pushing him away. He grins as he takes off your shirt, then your shoes, your pants, and everything else. “Where do you want me to go?“ he whispers.

"Don’t tease me dammit, you know what I want…”

“I’m not sure, you’ll need to give me some directions,” he teases. “Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want me to do.”

You reach up and push down on his shoulders with force and turn his face to yours. “If I have to tell you, I’m going home right now,” you giggle.

“Yes ma'am,“ he says with a chuckle, falling to his knees. He starts at your inner thigh and licks his way up, slowly inching his way to be right where you want him.

“No teasing,” you whisper. “No time for that.” He wasn’t about to disappoint you. He reaches around with both hands, grabbing your ass and pulling you to him. He puts his mouth over your pussy and uses his lips to spread yours so he can focus all of his attention on your clit. You weren’t lying when you said there was no time for teasing. You missed the feeling of his tongue on you so much that you almost immediately begin to cum, your fingers digging into his head. That didn’t stop him from sucking on your clit. Every muscle in your body tightens and convulses as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. The intensity is almost more than you can take, but he doesn’t stop. He won’t until you tell him to. You’re speechless. The only sounds you can make are the loud moans and screams he’s making you give. He alternates between sucking your clit and setting it on fire with his tongue. You can’t tell him to stop because you’re beyond speechless now. You push his head away, but he pulls you closer, relentlessly continuing his attack on your throbbing clit until you scream one more time and go limp.

He stands up and gazes playfully into your eyes, caressing each of your breasts with his open palms, letting your stiff nipples slide between his fingers so he can tweak them. He circles them with his fingertips, softly, watching your nipples grow even harder. Still looking into your eyes without a word, he slides his arms underneath your legs, raising them to his shoulders as he lines up his cock with your still pulsating pussy. “May I?” he asks, somewhat jokingly.

“You fucking better,” you giggle.

“And how should I serve you?” he asks with a sarcastic smirk.

You grin. “Hard,” you growl as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

He has absolutely no problem with that. He rams himself into you with great force, pulling you to him with his hands on your thighs each time he thrusts into you. You look deep into each other’s eyes; your faces telling everything you need to know. You are both right where you want to be and getting what you both so badly needed. He slows his pace to let you catch your breath, rubbing your tummy and gently massaging your tits, softly brushing over your nipples.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he starts to fuck you slowly now, with long, slow strokes. “I love being inside you.”

“Right where you belong,” you coo with gaspy breath and a smirk. You can see in his eyes that he’s getting closer before he even started to pick up the pace of his thrusts. "Give it to me,” you groan. “Give it all to me.”

He reaches down with his thumb and begins to rub your clit with firm circles as he gets even closer and closer, feeling you start to spasm. He pushes even deeper into you. “I’m ready,” he groans loudly. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m ready.”

“Do it,” you grunt. “You’re making me cum.” His cock pulses and throbs and your walls constrict around him as his load shoots into you. He keeps thrusting until he’s unable to stand, collapsing his face softly onto your stomach, wrapping his arms around you, his most favorite spot in the world.

Your arms wrap around him as you rub and pat his head. With a soft and sweet giggle, you purr. “Good boy.“

He slides up into the bed, and you slide up to lay next to him, still basking in your collective glow, and rest your head on his chest. “I may not be able to do that in 20 years,” he chuckles. “Keep it up and you may even wear me out long before then.”

“I don’t care,” you say. “As long as you can still hold me in 20 years I’ll be just fine.”

He kisses the top of your head and squeezes you tightly. “You’ll really marry me?” he asks, almost as if he’s baffled that you said you would.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” you say softly as you look at the ring on your hand and smile. You shift yourself to have your face next to his, a tinge of worry washing over you. “You don’t think this is what I was looking for this whole time, do you?”

“Not at all,” he grins. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t want any of this.” You roll your eyes and start to laugh. “Well, you didn’t. You just wanted to use me for sex then toss me in the bin when you were done.”

“Oh like you started all of this with serious intentions,” you laugh and playfully slap his chest. “You didn’t want any of this either.”

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he smirks. “I just wanted you to be my little play thing in L.A.” You roll away from him onto your back, but he rolls over as well and hovers over you. “But now that I’ve got you, I’m never letting you go.”


End file.
